


Music For A While

by BrutalWarElf



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Conservatory, Alternate Universe - University, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Classical Music, Crisis of Faith, Domestic Violence, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Religious Fanaticism, Theology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 107,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrutalWarElf/pseuds/BrutalWarElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skwisgaar struggles to get his breakthrough as a concert pianist alongside his teaching job at the Musikkhøgskole in Oslo while his friends Nathan and Abigail’s singing careers are taking off. When he gets the call from his agent, the stress of his perfectionism filters into the cracks of his carefully constructed life. Slowly but surely the mess he left behind in Sweden begins to take its toll.<br/>Reverend’s son Toki returns to Oslo for his second year of Theology. The loss of control he experiences from day one has everything to do with the added workload of his piano minor at the conservatory, where he studies under ruthless piano teacher Mr Skwigelf. His new friend Pickles and his housemate Murderface try to help Toki come into his own away from his strict parents’ influence, but when Toki’s father finds out what he has been hiding, there is hell to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude in C sharp minor

**Author's Note:**

> Music For A While is complete and will update daily.

On his way to Offdensen's office Toki could not help but feel a slight sense of trepidation. The professor had an air of understated authority that made most students quake in their boots. That quality, combined with his piercing gaze that cut through any nonsense, made him a fearsome adversary. Toki liked him well enough, because Offdensen was also fair and compassionate - in a distant sort of way. 

He was not sure what the occasion for a private meeting was. Did all students get to see their mentor prior to starting the new semester? It had not occurred in his first year. Would Offdensen perhaps be disappointed with his grades? Toki knew that the way in which he had passed certain subjects was not exactly something to write home about, but he had passed everything, most exams even on the first try.

A day after arriving back in Oslo, Murderface had handed Toki an envelope addressed to him as well as a sandwich as a manner of welcome back when he had come down for breakfast. Toki had declined the beer that went with it, earning himself a 'live a little, grandma' first thing. He was not sure what to make of his housemate most days, but thankfully Murderface's job kept him occupied during the week. He was one of those guys unable to move on from student life despite having graduated years ago, still occupying his sad little room and visiting his fraternity for every social event.

The envelope had very nearly been lost in the garbage piling up against the front door, but thankfully Murderface had been able to save it. It had contained a handwritten note in the professor's neat script, requesting a meeting at Toki's earliest convenience. Toki was glad that most of his professors still relied on old-fashioned methods of communication, because despite having learned how to use computers in school, Toki had never been allowed to own one. He had to resort to the library's devices to check the sparse notifications he got from blackboard and the administration.

 Unable to think of anything he might have done wrong Toki was left guessing until he stepped inside Offdensen's dim office, where the morning sun cast long shadows through the blinds on the windows. Bookshelves lined every wall, specialised literature meticulously categorised by subject. It was a calming sort of environment, but at the same time it felt oppressive and stuffy. It was his future, Toki knew, but he would still have plenty of time to adjust to the idea.

"God morgen, Toki," Offdensen greeted in his funny hot potato Danish accent, standing up from behind his desk.

"Professor." Toki shook his outstretched hand, suppressing a smile.

"I hope you've had a, ah, pleasant summer break?"

"Ja takk."

Toki schooled his face to a neutral expression, but the twitch of an eyebrow betrayed that Offdensen saw right through him.

"Good to hear."

Offdensen held his gaze a second longer than necessary, which did nothing to reassure Toki.

"Please, sit down. I was going over your file earlier this week, and I noticed that you earned 80 ECTs last year. That's an impressive feat."

"Thank you, Professor." Toki said quietly.

There was probably a 'but' in there somewhere, there always was.

"I would like to see you keep up the good work, so there are a few things I want to talk to you about. First off, your, ah, Greek - your grades have been steadily dropping all year, and if it had not been for the average, you would have failed it the second semester."

Offdensen gave him an uncompromising look.

Toki winced. He had already had this talk with his father. His obsession with music had exponentially increased away from the authority of his parents, causing his dedication to his primary studies to slip badly enough to nearly fail his classics. As punishment he had gotten the task of translating the entire New Testament over the summer after his daily chores. He was unsure whether the punishment had had effect; his interest in Theology had reached an all-time low over the summer.

"Toki." Offdensen called him back to the conversation at hand. "Can we offer you, ah, tutoring so that you won't get stuck with the follow-up courses?"

"I'm not sure if I have time for that." Toki said hoarsely.

He already regretted taking on the piano minor, the work piling up in his mind's eye. It was getting a little hard to breathe, but come what may; he was going to do it. He would drop the Church music minor before he would drop the opportunity for three years of piano lessons from the best teachers in the country.

"You do have an exceptionally full schedule. I see you plan on doing two minors this year?"

"Yes, I do." Toki said, calmer than he felt.

Deep down, he feared that it was never going to work. He was going to fail everything spectacularly and let both his parents and professors down just because he selfishly wanted to pursue music.

"It's an ambitious plan, to say the least. I just want to make sure you know that you can always ask for, ah, help. I can see you're a talented student, and the faculty is more than willing to provide adequate support, alright?"

Offdensen levelled a demure smile at him over his spectacles.

Toki nodded wordlessly, unused to this kind of goodwill.

"Why don't you figure out a schedule that works for you and get back to me on the things you need, ah, help with. I'm here most days. Just stop by, alright?"

A potent mix of anxiety and emotion at the unexpected offer of support closed Toki's throat as he tried to thank Offdensen.

"Take care, Toki." Offdensen showed him out. "I'll see you in class."

 

*******

Queuing behind a guy with an impressive shock of red dreadlocks and an odour of alcohol and pot, Toki impatiently waited his turn to buy syllables and hand in his huge book order at the bookstore. Lectures would only start next week, but he had managed to convince his parents that he needed to be back in Oslo in time to properly prepare for the new academic year.

Going over his time table, he sighed. He was going to have to learn Biblical Hebrew _and_ Hellenistic Greek this year. Languages were not really his forte, and from his struggle with Attic Greek and Latin it looked like it was going to be a disaster even without the additional work of his extracurricular subjects. He felt a little better after Offdensen's reassurance that he could get the help he needed, but mounting anxiety made for a lousy start.

The dreadlocked guy staggered into Toki as he turned to leave after completing his order, causing Toki to drop the massive Brown Driver Briggs Hebrew Lexicon his toes. He looked drunk, which was not that much of a surprise given the way he smelled, but it was barely past noon, for God's sake.

"Se det!" Toki called.

He was too wound up to avoid going off on this guy.

"Sahrry, dood." An unfocused look.

"Hva er ditt problem?" Toki hissed.

"Cahm again?"

"Whats you problem?" Toki demanded a little more aggressively than necessary, in English this time.

Why didn’t international students ever bother to learn Norwegian?

The redhead crouched beside him to help him pick up his books.

"Buy me a cup of cahffee and I might tell yew." He said, raising double pierced eyebrows over a cocky grin to defuse the tension.

It worked; he caught Toki off guard. Toki frowned at the guy while he wordlessly passed his order form to the lady behind the register and paid for the books in his hands. He was not supposed to let himself in with people who looked like that, but opportunities to make new friends were always few and far between if you were socially isolated and absorbed in studies. If he was ever going to be a reverend he might as well start practicing his people skills, Toki told himself. That, and he found the guy fascinating in his otherness.

"How abouts we goes to my place for coffees? Nots really in de position to be buyings anything." Toki grimaced at the expensive book order while he stuffed his other purchases in his backpack.

"Yeuh, I git that." Dreadlocks replied. "Humanities, man - so many feckin' books... Sure, that's cool."

They exited the store together, squinting against the August sun.

"My house am this way, eh...?" Toki trailed off.

"Pickles."

"I'ms Toki. You says you's a Humanities students, too? Whats you study?"

"Philahsephy, I specialize in metaphysics. And yew," Pickles glanced over at Toki's purchase, "are a theologian, am I right?"

"Yeah, it ams a families thing. Also gots some minors in musics - I actually kinds of likes musics better."

"Over at the eh- feck, what's it called again?"

"Musikkhøgskole, yeah. Oh, this ams the place."

Pickles followed Toki into the old townhouse at the edge of the city centre. They had to step over a pile of garbage bags in the hallway. Toki wrinkled his nose.

"Excuse my disgustings housemate." He raised his voice so that it carried over to the culprit.

Murderface flipped them off from the kitchen.

"Dood, that guy is feckin' ancient," Pickles said when they ascended the creaky wooden stairs to Toki's room, "why's he livin' here?"

"Been livings here for over ten years. I think he ams a notary? I don’ts know much about him, but sometime he makes great sandwiches."

"Heh, I shouldn't judge, rilly. This is gahnna be my tenth year." Pickles laughed. "Just cehn't seem teh finish that damn thesis."

"Coulds you not swears so much?"

It was out before he knew it, as if Toki's father spoke with his mouth. That’s what he got for spending two months in Lillehammer.  

"Right. Theologian. How cahm I've never seen ye at the faculty parties?" Pickles asked. "What year yew in?"

"Seconds. Last years was kinds of busy, had to get 80 ECTs, so..." Toki deflected.

He was not supposed to do partying of any kind - it was not very fitting for someone of his vocation. He found it hard to comprehend that his fellow students spent so much time drinking while they could be furthering their education or developing their other interests.

"80? That's a lot - oh, is this yer timetable?" Pickles picked up the folded paper Toki dropped on his desk.

"Yeah. Gots lots of new courses this years." Toki looked over his shoulder. "Know any of the profs?"

"Eh, oh, ye gaht Fjordslorn fer Hellenistic Greek, he's a cool guy, I've seen him around in bars and stuff. Hm, Offdensen fer Church Law, that's tough!"

"I knows Offdensen."

"Ye had a run-in with the Robot already?"

"He's my mentors. What's you mean, Robots? I thinks he ams greats." Toki countered. 

"He's bin tryin' teh git me teh finish my Master's fer ages, but I think he gave up last year."

An awkward silence fell, but Toki could not contain his curiosity.

"Why don'ts you finish you studies, Pickle? Must be bads if you gots the dean on your case."

Toki caught his evasive gaze and held it.

"It's Pickles. With an s." He muttered. "I donno, dood. Guess graduating means I gahtta go back to Wiscahnsin. I came teh Oslo because I wanted to be as far away from that as pahssible."

"What's in Wisconsins?"

"My folks 'n my criminal brother. We don't git alahng."

"Why don'ts you gradsuate and gets a jobs here, Pickle?"

Pickles looked pained, and Toki wondered if he should stop prying.

"Don't rilly have a life here either. I jest drink a lot the fergit aboot it."

"That's sad, Pickle." Toki commented, half sympathetic, half judgemental.

"Admitting sadness makes ye gay."

Toki shook his head.

"Sad am human. Gay am sinful. Ams a difference."

He parroted the precept that had been impressed on him repeatedly for the last four years or so.

"Don't tell me yer _that_ kind of religious nut." Pickles frowned.

"You wants some coffee and shuts up or leaves?" Toki gave him a hard look.

The necessity to avoid this topic felt more pressing than taking a shot at making a friend.

"Jeeez-, alright, I'll take the cahffee."

Pickles twisted his dreads into a bun at the back of his head as Toki passed him to get some coffee from the kitchen. It was an unusual look, but Toki thought it was pretty cool. He had grown his own hair as long as he could without attracting too much comment - just above shoulder length - since he turned eighteen a year and a half ago.

Over coffee Pickles filled Toki in on the faculty news that he had missed during the summer.

".... ye know that Ethics prof who teaches all the philahsephy related courses for Theology? He's setting up an extracurricular Master seminar around death, sounded kinda brootal. Mibbe he'll let ye in, he's always pritty accepting of anyone who wants teh learn. We could go there together."

"I'ms kinds of swamped, Pickle, but I sees about it, alrights? It do sounds... brutal, and Skjellum is a greats prof."

Brutal was a cool word; Toki was going to file it away for later use.

"Yeah, he is. Oh, and git this: that Dutch prof, what's he teach again?"

"Olds Testament Exegesis." Toki supplied.

"Yeah, he gaht married over the summer. To his boyfriend."

"Huh." Toki pursed his lips. "I betters make sures my dads don'ts hear about that. He goings to makes me switch to _Det Teologiske Menighetsfakultet_ after all if thats get out."

"Yer dad a strict man?" Pickles asked quietly.

"The strictest. He’s really hell bents on dictatings my entire lifes. Pickings the Universities of Oslo over the Schools of Theology was the second biggest row we ever hads."

"Looks like we have somethin' in common, efter all, Toki."

"Maybe you's right." Toki smiled.

Sipping his bitter, black coffee before it cooled down enough to drink properly, Toki studied his strange new friend over the rim of his mug.

"What times am it?" He asked after a while.

Pickles looked at his phone.

"Almost three."

"I gots to go plays piano in a seconds. Maybe we can meets up again soon?"

Pickles seemed reluctant to leave.

"Ye mind if I tag along? I'm kinda bored."

Toki was not used to people being this eager to hang out with him, but it was nice for a change. He led Pickles to the church a block away, suddenly remembering some caution was in order. He was normally the only one guarding his secrets, but sharing them with someone else required trust. He wanted someone he could trust, though.

"Coulds you keeps quiet about wheres I practice by any chance? This is kinds of connevient for me, but this church amen'ts my kinds, so, you know...?"

"Yer dad?"

Toki nodded. His father was a reverend for the Seventh Day Adventists, and he would never approve of Toki mingling with other denominations. Since going to university Toki had found it impossible, not to mention undesirable, to keep up the effort of completely segregating himself from the rest of the world. He did not have the courage to come out and say that to Aslaug yet, but perhaps one day.

"Sure, dood. Though sneakin' around is naht very righteous."

"At least I amen'ts drunks at noon." Toki retorted.

"Low blow, dood." Pickles nudged him playfully.

It took a while for Far Orlaag to open the small side door to the Lutheran church after Toki knocked.

"Komme i, Toki. Hvem er det?" The priest asked with a nod to Pickles.

"My friend wants to hear me play, is that alright?"

"Of course."

"Nice robes," Pickles said with a look at the priest's liturgical attire.

"You look quite interesting yourself, young man." Far Orlaag said with his customary wolfish grin, before turning back to Toki. "How was your summer? It was quiet here without your music."

"I'm glad I'm back."

"If you want to talk, you know where to find me. You will manage, won't you, Toki?"

"Ja takk, Far."

The wooden upright piano at the back of the church was dusty but in tune, which was all Toki ever needed. Taking his sheet music from his bag he sat down on the stool, leaving Pickles to find himself a spot among the pews. Instead, Pickles sat down on the floor cross-legged, leaning against the wall where he could look at Toki arranging his scores.

Channelling the tension he had been bottling up for weeks through the precise movements of his fingers across the keys, Toki let Rachmaninoff express his feelings for him. Pickles looked up from rolling a joint when the Prelude in C sharp minor flowed from his hands.

"Dood, ye never told me yew were good!"

"We just mets, Pickle. Besides, I amen'ts goods. Not yet."

"Oh, come on, I know a thing or two about music."

"Whats might that be?"

"Uh, I play the drums." Pickles shrugged sheepishly, realising that was probably not the best comparison.

Toki stopped playing, interest piqued.

"In a bands?" He asked eagerly.

"Don't have a behnd right now. I used teh sing in one, but I quit when I went teh study abrahd. I miss it though."

"Whats kinds of musics?"

"Glam metal."

Pickles' smile was faintly embarrassed.

"Metal...!"

Toki knew metal was quite possibly the worst taste in music for him to have. He tried to be good and stay away from it, but his hopeless attraction to it was not easily erased. The things he loved, he loved deeply, and his mind was not wired to forget.

"Yew like metal?" Pickles asked gleefully.

Toki buried his face in his hands with a groan. It was completely inappropriate.

"Let me guess, the Gahd Squad says it's wrahng."

"I shoulds just stick to classicals."

Pickles ignored his evasion.

"Ye ever picked up a guitahr?"

"I hads a… friends in Videregående skole whats was into metal. He hads an electric guitars and lets me plays. My dads gots real angries when he founds out."

"I'll bet. I mean, I get it. I grew up in the Midwest. Though Christian rahck is a thing there."

Something about Pickles' friendly demeanour made Toki confide in him.

"I haven'ts been able to lets it go since."

"Ye sahrry son of a bitch." Pickles laughed.

"Pickle!" Toki barked.

"Right, no swearing. Though I gahtta ask: is that yew talking or yer dad?"

"I don'ts know."

Comparing himself to Pickles, he was not even sure he had a personality of his own. Come to think of it, he did - it just happened to clash with everything his parents valued in a son. But he was working on that.

 

*******

Toki hurried down the corridor of rehearsal rooms for his first piano lesson at the conservatory. After making a mad dash from Hellenistic Greek his heart was pounding in his throat. The Theology faculty situated on the other side of the city centre from the conservatory building, and there had not been quite enough time to make the walk at a normal pace.

This section of the building was unfamiliar to Toki, and he had no idea where his teacher might be. The hallway was almost deserted, so he addressed the huge guy reading an opera score at a table nearby.

"Coulds you tells me wheres to finds..." Toki pulled out his timetable with shaking hands. He was going to be late and look like an idiot. "...Mr Skwigelf? He's supposed to be in M407 but I can'ts finds him."

The guy swept a lock of long black hair out of his face and snorted.

"You got the Swedish dildo licker? Good luck with that, kid."

Toki's mouth fell open at the effortless profanity that rolled from his mouth.

"I begs your pardon?"

"You heard me. He's my répétiteur, too," the singer waved his score, "and the biggest pain in the ass ever. What voice are you?"

"I’ms a pianist." Toki replied in urgent tones. "Listens, I don'ts gots times. Cans you tells me or not?"

"Just wait here, he's probably late. That's a good thing, by the way. Most students don't last the hour."

"That amen'ts very reassurings." Toki gulped.

"Yeah, he's the worst." The singer grinned at him. "But he's also the best, you know what I mean?"

"I gots no clue whats you means."

"He's the best pianist they've got here, which makes him such a diiiiiiil-dooooo. Hi."

Toki followed the singer's gaze up the towering form of his new teacher. Though he had been in glasses and a ponytail at the time, Toki recognised him from the panel that had judged his audition earlier that summer.

"Ams you here for lessons?" Skwigelf drawled with a heavy accent, looking down his long nose at him as he rolled the sleeves of a light dress shirt up to his elbows.

"Yeah." Toki croaked, looking up into deep-set eyes that exhibited a mercurial mind.

Cold sweat broke out on his chest.

"Follows me. I sees you laters, Nathans."

The dark singer mouthed 'Good luck' to Toki before returning to his opera.

Skwigelf opened the door to M407, hit a couple of triads on the grand piano inside and walked out again with a disgusted noise.

"We amen'ts playings dat ones. Tells me why." Skwigelf quizzed him while he used a skeleton key to open another door.

Toki had not missed it.

"The pitch of that G sharp ams off by 1 or 2 Herz."

Skwigelf gave a pleased hum and ushered him inside.

"I wants to work on dat Rachmaninoff you played for you auditions. Dids you bring de score?"

Toki nodded, extracting it from his bag.

"Forst you plays me some scales, alrights? Sit down." Skwigelf ordered.

Toki made his way through the major and minor scales unscathed, but when he hit the second note of the harmonic minor in D, Skwigelf barked 'WRONG!' so loudly that Toki threw up his arms and covered his head.

It was quiet for a beat.

"Toki? Ams you okays?" Skwigelf ventured cautiously.

Toki lowered his arms and squared his shoulders, ignoring the useless question with burning cheeks.

"I tries again." He announced to no one in particular.

Skwigelf was silent throughout the remainder of the scales, leaning against the wall opposite Toki with his arms crossed.

"Takes notes." He waited for Toki to grab his notebook and pen. "For next weeks you gots to work on you phrasings in relations to you breathings. Make sense?"

"Uh, breathings in time with your phrasings to makes it more organic? Like with singings?"

"Rights you ams, Toki. I likes to sees you try applies it to de piece rights now, so you gets a feels of whats to practice on."

Toki took a deep breath and launched into the Prelude. Skwigelf stopped him after five seconds.

"Lowers you breathing. Not dis panicky gasp you does."

Toki took another breath, but before his fingers hit the keys Skwigelf stopped him with a disapproving 'Pfffffft.'

"Agains."

He knew that he had messed up again, but continued playing until Skwigelf stopped him, circling the bench Toki sat on. Twitching violently when he felt hands squeeze his sides beneath his ribs, Toki hunched in on himself. 

"Sits up. Now breathes into my hands. No, rights _here_."

Toki squirmed under the pressure of his fingers. Being touched rarely carried a positive connotation.

"I continues dis until you gets it right, so starts playings." Skwigelf’s low voice drawled in Toki's ear.

He did not care if it made Toki uncomfortable.

Consciously making an effort to drop the tension in his diaphragm and abs, Toki slowly let the breath fill his lungs, his fingers coming down on the keys on his exhale.

Skwigelf allowed him to finish the piece this time, drawing his hands away halfway through.

"You's not terribles, I guess. They didn'ts ruins you too much. Who was you teacher befores? Don'ts answers dat. I probablies never heards of dem."

"I haven'ts had a teachers in a long time." Toki confessed.

"Selfs-taught? Well, you’s stucks with me now, so prepares to work harders dan ever. You betters not be stubborns. If you don'ts practice don't bothers showings up."

Toki opened his mouth, but Skwigelf waltzed right over him.

"Dismissed. Sends in de next on you way out."

Toki left the rehearsal room with his head spinning.

"Hey, kid," The singer called Nathan waved him over while Toki held the door for a petite Latina. "How did it go?"

"Well enough?" Toki shrugged.

"How did he classify you?"

"Whats?"

"You know, 'pathetics', 'dildos', 'goes wash de shames off youself'..." Nathan did a fair imitation of Skwigelf’s accent.

"Eh, 'not terribles', I guess."

"You're going places, kid." The singer grinned.

"My names am Toki."

"Nice to meet you. Now piss off, I gotta study."

 

 

*******

**Notes**

Prelude in C sharp minor by Sergej Rachmaninoff. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bGqylB0GUQk

**Translations**

“Se det!” - Watch out!

“Hva er ditt problem?” - What’s your problem?

"Komme i, Toki. Hvem er det?" – Come in, Toki. Who is that?

ECT - European Credit Transfer. Points that are awarded according to the amount of work a course requires.

 


	2. The Varangian Guest

Waving the tiny soprano out, Skwisgaar gulped down a cup of coffee from his thermos before he would have to deal with his last two students of the day. This was not quite the future he had envisioned for himself when he graduated cum laude from the Kungliga Musikhögskolan seven years ago; desperately waiting for his breakthrough as a performing artist while he tried to educate a string of barely talented pianists and singers. 

His two part-time appointments did not quite make a full-time job put together, but at least he was employed and out of Sweden. That counted for something. Perhaps this year would be different. He should not get his hopes up too much, but that prospect was the only thing he lived for at the moment. 

Skwisgaar glanced at the clock. Nathan should have been here five minutes ago, but their relationship was unprofessional that way. Since he had started teaching the singer with the unusual basso profondo voice three years ago, they had developed a close friendship that overruled their teacher-student relationship at every turn. Nathan was close in age to Skwisgaar, but, having enrolled in the opera academy after his Master's in classical singing, he was still studying.

They got along so well that half their lessons were usually wasted laughing about something or other, but when Nathan got serious, he was a force to be reckoned with. Skwisgaar foresaw a great career for him.

Poking his head out into the hallway, Skwisgaar spotted him unsuccessfully chatting up jazz-student Abigail and laughed to himself. It was a hopeless endeavour. Abigail did not have time for clingy boyfriends. She was a rising star. It was unsurprising she had already landed a record deal prior to graduating, and Skwisgaar admired her for sticking with the program regardless. That showed character as well as a lot of respect for the teachers.

"Nathans!" Skwisgaar called. "Gets you fat- gets you ass in heres and stops wastings everybodies times."

"Alright, don't get your panties in a bunch, you diiiii-"

Nathan self-consciously glanced at Abigail, torn up about appearing rude to their teacher in front of his love interest.

"Yeah, I'll be right there. See you, Abigail." Nathan said with a sappy smile that underlined his obliviousness.

Abigail rolled her eyes at Skwisgaar’s little smirk.

When Nathan finally stomped up to the piano, he tossed his score of 'Die Zauberflöte' in Skwisgaar's lap. Skwisgaar turned it over in his hands with a sneer. The sad thing about teaching was that no matter how great the music, there were always students who managed to cock it up spectacularly.

"From the top, _Maestro_."

The title did not sound honorary from Nathan's mouth, which he fully intended.

"Sarastro. Reallies?" Skwisgaar griped. "You couldn'ts come up with somethings more originals for me? You has any ideas how many times I plays dis glorifieds musicals?"

It was one of Skwisgaar's favourite operas, but he could not help yanking Nathan's chain. He had to retaliate.

"You get paid for that, stop whining." Nathan growled.

His speaking voice sounded like he had a perpetual throat ache, which had been misleading at first. Skwisgaar remembered sending him home in the first week of teaching him because he thought the singer was downplaying an infection.

 "Besides, you love Mozart." Nathan pointed out his lie. "It's fast and has lots of notes."

"Pffffft. I plays dis in my sleeps. Next times you sings de Varangian Guest from Sadko."

"Never heard of it."

"Dat's why I'ms de teachers, and you a lowly students." Skwisgaar gave him a superior look.

"You're so full of shit. Eh, which composer?"

Nathan flattened his notebook against his lectern.

"Rimsky-Korsakov. Okays, here we goes,"

Skwisgaar flipped through the score to the right page.

" _'In diesens heil'ge Hallens'_. We does the dialogue, too, I ams Pamina."

Nathan's broad shoulders started shaking at the thought of Skwisgaar playing the leading lady, a sign of an impending fit of laughter, but he cleared his throat and swept his hair out of his eyes. Squaring his shoulders, he took up a grounded stance and gave Skwisgaar a nod.

Skwisgaar positioned his hands over the keys and put on a falsetto voice to read Pamina's line from the libretto.

" _Herr! Strafe meine Mutters nicht! Der Schmerz übers mein H-_ "

" _Ich weiss a_ haha... Skwisgaar, for fuck's sake, you're killing me!"

Nathan bent double, wheezing.

"I likes to laugh." Skwisgaar chuckled.

He knew that this was going to crack Nathan up, but he could not resist. He never found much reason for laughter, and 'teaching' Nathan was usually the highlight of his week in that respect. Skwisgaar played the intro of the aria over and over until Nathan wiped away his tears and took a serious breath.

" _In diesen heil'gen Ha-_ " Nathan trailed off laughing again when he caught Skwisgaar's eye, but Skwisgaar kept playing.

"Godsdamnit, Nathans. I don'ts even knows how you gots dat degree, you fuckings amateur."

" _Kennt Man die Ra_ \- ha hahaha..."

"Goes home, Nathans," Skwisgaar continued over Nathan's pathetic attempt to salvage his singing, "joins a fuckings operetta companies and sings for de elderlies or some shits like dat, 'cause you suck."

" _Fuhrt Liebe ihn zu Pf_ ffffft..."

"Dats littles kids ams a betters musicians dan you, and dis was hims forst day."

Nathan abandoned all pretence at singing.

"He was good, wasn't he?" He levelled an interested gaze at Skwisgaar.

"Ja, I mights make somethings out of hims yet. It's a shames he just a minors students, whats a waste of talents."

He would have to see how fast Toki learned. It would not be the first time the talent he scouted among the university students ended up switching to the conservatory.

"Why you ask?"

"You know me, always looking for piano friends."

"I thoughts I was you piano friends."

"The Ministry of Education pays you to be my piano friend."

"True. Don'ts know whethers you shoulds gets involves with dat kid, though."

"Why not? He seemed like a nice little goofball. "

"Not sures. Calls it inskinks."

Skwisgaar stopped playing. He did not know who he was trying to protect, but he had a feeling that that Toki kid was trouble. The metaphorical dark cloud he had seemed to carry with him could either mean he was very vulnerable or very dangerous. Considering the fact that he was a theologian, he was probably more than a little fucked in the head. What student in their right mind chose to study a dying phenomenon like Christianity unless they were forced or brainwashed? Or was that judging him too harshly?

He frowned to dispel his train of thought. Maybe he was just imagining things. His mind did tend to do overtime when his own life got boring.

"Whats weres you two talkings about before I shows up, anyways?" Skwisgaar asked with narrowed eyes.

He was pretty sure he had caught the word 'dildo', so chances were that they had been discussing him.

"Nothing that isn't true. I just told him about your reputation and nickname among the students."

"You broughts dat nicknames into existence single-handedsly."

Nathan grinned.

"And I make sure every new student knows it."

"Douchebag."

Abigail distracted him and Nathan both by stepping into the room to claim her timeslot.

 

*******

Nathan had a role in a small-scale opera production, so he could not hang out with Skwisgaar that night due to rehearsals. Skwisgaar walked home alone. Lonely and more than a little jealous, he wondered if it would be a terrible idea to go on a pub crawl tonight and see if he could get laid to take his mind off things. It was only Tuesday, but with the high student population in the capital there were always people out, and Skwisgaar was not picky. The downside to going out and hooking up was that he probably would not be able to play to save his life come tomorrow morning, but then again, the first two hours he taught Music Theory. It was usually best to switch off his mind when dealing with that personal hell, anyway. He was not fond of the subject, and his students were rarely interested or good at it, which made for an excellent recipe to ruin his mood first thing. 

Despite his plans to seek out company he ended up on his own couch with a microwaved dinner after whiling away most of the evening on his piano. Having spent the day standing around criticising his piano students and repeating snippets of the same aria's while criticising his singing students, it was a relief to play something for his own enjoyment.

Because of his expertise it was hard to find performers who were able to take his mind off what could be improved about their interpretation of the music. It was high time he found something that could keep his inspiration alive before he lost it completely.

His summer break had not done much on that front. He had spent most of it indoors, hiding from the seasonal warmth, his tunnel vision directed at the keys underneath his fingers and the pedals under his feet. It had been good for his technique, but not for his passion.

Obsession, it turned out, did not always equal inspiration.

Nathan had been away to visit family in Florida for three weeks, and though the offer to accompany him had been tempting, Skwisgaar had not wanted to miss his instrument for that amount of time.

Around nine he stopped playing like agreed with his neighbours when he had moved in. They had young kids, and he could see that keeping them awake past their bedtime with his music would be doing them no favours. He did not mind - it kept him from becoming so engrossed that he forgot to go to bed. Settling in the cushions of his couch with a thumbed copy of Dragonriders of Pern, Skwisgaar studied the cover art. He owed most of his English skills to reading a handful of fantasy books, and he always kept coming back to his favourite novel. He really loved dragons. Too bad this world did not have any. Now that would have made for an inspiring environment.

His phone rang out of the blue, and he sat up with the faintly anxious feeling that it might be his mother. Was it not a little early for her to start calling? She always got lonely in autumn and winter, when the heavy snow that blanketed Kiruna kept her from going out and picking up men, but summer was barely at its end.

Picking up the phone to look at the caller ID, he was surprised to see it was his agent, Dick Knubbler. Skwisgaar pulled a questioning face at his cell before answering the call.

"Hellos?"

"Skwisgaar, it's me. Hey, listen, I got some interesting news for you."

"You does?"

Skwisgaar sat up, pressing his phone to his ear so he would not miss a word. Was this the call he had been waiting for so long?

"Looks like that sweetheart Abigail has been doing some name-dropping at her record label, and a big concert promoter got wind of it. I got a call earlier today to see if you would be interested to talk business."

"Ams you jokings?! Of course I ams!"

Skwisgaar's voice rose half an octave in excitement. 

"They have some ideas about the specifics, and I know you like to be on top of everything, but I want you to hear them out before being, you know, Skwisgaar all over the place, okay babe? I think they'll like input from you, but don't go completely overboard with the perfectionism on that front. Long story short, we need to come up with a plan so I can really sell you to these guys."

He had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth before speaking again.

"Ams you serious rights now?"

"I told you it was just a matter of time, babe." Knubbler said triumphantly.

"Ja, I guess you dids. Huh."

Skwisgaar could hardly believe an opportunity had actually come up after all this time.

"I need you to think long and hard on a programme that would make a great impression, but don't get too hung up on that idea. Can you do that for me?"

"Damns straights I cans!" Skwisgaar replied.

"Don't just pick the most complicated and fastest stuff you've got. Keep in mind what people want to hear. You do that, and we'll meet on Friday to discuss it, okay?"

"Huh, ja."

He was already far away, running through his mental library of music, lost among scores and melodies.

"What's a good time for you?"

Dick's nasal voice barely came through.

"I gots de afternoons off on Fridays, so is all fines."

"Come to my office when you're done, then. See you, Skwisgaar!"

"Sees you, Knubblers. Thanks you." He added belatedly.

Skwisgaar's mind was filled with music as he lay in his bed wide-eyed, excitement and nervousness warring for dominance. He wanted this so badly, but it was all on him if he blew his chance. What if they did not like his ideas? What if they did not like _him_? If they were expecting someone similarly charismatic and likeable to Abigail they might be disappointed. It hardly mattered that he was great with his instrument if he had to deal with douchebag industry people first. The pressure was going to kill him.

 

*******

Skwisgaar had not gotten an awful lot of sleep between his mind running in circles over the news he had gotten last night and waking up with first light out of sheer excitement. He wondered if seven AM was too early to start playing. The neighbours with the kids were probably up, but he was not sure about the elderly lady on the other side. She liked him well enough, but he was not sure how long that would last if he began waking her up every day.

Erring on the side of caution, he popped a Children of Bodom record in his cd player to at least have some music to start his day. Heavy riffs blasted through the speakers loudly enough to almost make him drop his plate. He had to remember to adjust the volume after listening to classical music, or to check it before he put on metal.

Scrambling to turn down the dial, Skwisgaar winced. So much for not wanting to wake the whole neighbourhood with piano playing.

Listening to the artful shredding as he ate, Skwisgaar reminded himself he should give his dusty guitar some love sometime soon. It may not put any bread on the table, but he was still fond of the instrument. He made quick work of breakfast, checked his schedule to throw the right students' scores in his leather bag and grabbed his lunch from the fridge.

If he made good time walking to the conservatory he might even get some playing in before the first lesson of the day, which would help his mood significantly. He was not cranky, per sé, but he was a little sleep-deprived and on edge. There was so much riding on the one judgement call that he had to make with no information whatsoever. Thankfully, he had Knubbler to help him deal with the business part of his work.

When he arrived in the lobby of the conservatory the sight of his colleague queuing in front of the coffee machines reminded him that he should think about the possibility of finding a substitute for the days he would miss playing concerts. He had no illusions about the amount of work it would take to get in shape for an endeavour like that. He was not going to manage in just the evening hours and weekends.

"Morning, Skwisgaar."

The other piano teacher greeted as he sidled up to the queue with no intention of getting coffee himself.

"Hej Magnus. Can I talks to you reals quick?"

It would be best to gauge this on time, to see if he could keep the option open.

"Sure, buddy."

Magnus focused his mismatched eyes on Skwisgaar, which was unsettling. Skwisgaar knew that stupid things like visible genetic anomalies should not freak him out, but Magnus' piebaldism gave him a creepy appearance that made it hard to meet his eyes.

"Nothing sets in stones yet, but I maybes needs some days off arounds de Christmas holidays to plays concerts. You thinks you coulds take on some of my students if dat happen?"

Skwisgaar forced a smile to try and win Magnus over to his cause, but averting his eyes made it a rather insincere effort.

"Hm."

Magnus' lips pulled back in an unconscious sneer.

Granted, it was a little rich coming from Skwisgaar to ask this of him. In his first years of employment at the Musikkhøgskole he had inadvertedly drawn away a number of the students who had been appointed to Magnus. However, Skwisgaar could not help it if they recognised the better musician and specifically requested he teach them instead. The flow had stemmed eventually, since it became obvious that Skwisgaar was a harsher taskmaster than Magnus, expecting more work and rewarding it with lower grades. They had never explicitly talked about it, but he got the feeling that Magnus silently resented him for it.

"You don'ts haves to decides right now..." Skwisgaar said when Magnus did not immediately answer. "and don'ts feel obliged. Its woulds probably just bes a couples of students.”

"I'll think about it." Magnus assented after a beat. "I guess I'll hear from you if you know more, right?"

"Ja, shores. Thanks you, Magnus. Haves a goods day."

Skwisgaar angled his feet towards the stairs to his classroom while he flashed Magnus another smile.

"I'll see you soon."

Students gradually filtered in while he made the glossy black upright piano in the corner ring out with a Wagner sonata in B flat. They took their seats around the tables he had shoved together in the middle of the room in silence. Checking the clock, he stopped playing when he saw that it was already ten past nine, though not all his students were there yet.

"Goods mornings." He addressed the four new faces while he sat down at the table with them. "Didn'ts expects to sees so few of you todays."

Fishing in his bag for the list of names, he decided to do a roll call to get an idea of who was who.

"Lourdes Cortina?"

A dark haired girl raised her chin, smiling at him with full lips.

"Leonard? Leonard Rockstein?"

Nobody answered.

"Has anybodies seens him?"

A young man with an accoustic guitar case behind his chair spoke up.

"I saw him last night at our fraternity, but not this morning."

"Let me guess, doing cocaine." Another student muttered, which earned her a round of silent snickers.

"Alrights, movings on." Skwisgaar called their attention back to himself.

"Jarl Lundqvist?"

"Present." Replied the guitarist.

"Ivar Risdal?"

A violinist with a buzzcut looked up.

"Ronke Snogge? He not here either? Pfffft."

The students looked at him blankly. Apparently no one knew the guy.

"Signe Midtsveen?"

"Right here."

The last name on his list made him pause to count heads and look at them closely.

"And I sees Toki Wartooth didn't shows up. Wells. Times to start de lessons. Gets out you syllables, we's doings solfège to warms up."

Another round of blank looks. He suppressed a sigh.

"Sight readings. Grabs de musics, goes!"

He clapped his hands, startling them into movement.

 

*******

"Mr Skwigelf!"

Just as Skwisgaar crossed the street out of the shadows of the conservatory building, Toki Wartooth caught up to him. The boy in his faded blue dress shirt was out of breath and seemed a little distraught. Sweat matted the back of his choppy jaw-length hair. Skwisgaar stopped walking and turned to him.

"Toki."

"I woulds like to apolgesize for missings Music Theory this mornings. I'ms so sorries."

Toki's panting made the formal wording of his apology rather comical.

"What happens?" Skwisgaar asked.

Toki did not seem the type to skive off for no reason.

"I took on a new seminars and I forgots it was at the same times as your class - I'ms so stupids!"

"Why didn't you sends an emails?" Skwisgaar asked.

Ronke and Leonard had emailed him over the course of the day, with a scheduling conflict and a bullshit excuse respectively.

"When I finds out it was too late to goes to the libraries before class." Toki hung his head in embarrassment. "Dids I miss much? How cans I make up for it? I drops de other class, of course." He rambled on.

"You mights not needs to." Skwisgaar pointed out. "Dere's a bunch of students who couldn'ts make Wednesdays mornings, so I'ms scheduling in anothers class on Fridays at one o'clocks. If you takes dat one you won'ts have missed a thing."

Toki set his bag on the pavement with a thud and pulled a rumpled timetable from his pocket. He glanced it over with a relieved expression.

"Oh, thats woulds be greats. I writes it down."

Skwisgaar watched him pencil in the changes with the tip of his tongue between his teeth.

"Tusen takk, Mr Skwigelf. I sees you on Fridays!"

Toki turned to leave.

"Toki."

There was something he had forgotten during Toki's piano lesson.

"Ja?"

"You gots a cell phone?"

Skwisgaar was not sure why he asked it like that - what student did not have a cell phone? Perhaps it was the combination of knowing Toki studied theology and his old-fashioned dress sense. And did he not say he had to go to the library to send an email?

"Eh, yeah, I does."

Toki fished an outdated but indestructible Nokia from his bag and switched it on.

"I gives you my numbers so you can calls or text when stuff comes up next times, alrights? I likes to know if thing changes, like if you ill or you swap times with other student, den I knows whats to prepare for." Skwisgaar explained.

He was not overly fond of unexpected change, or wasting time because of it.

"Ja, I keeps it in mind."

Toki typed in the number and gave Skwisgaar a perfunctory ring so he could save the number under Toki's name. 

"Dids you comes here to practice rights now?" Skwisgaar enquired, looking back at the building he just exited.

"No, I came to finds you. I practice closer to my rooms, so I goes there tonights."

Toki shouldered his bag.

"Oh, dat's goods. Where's you headed now?"

"Thats way."

Toki pointed vaguely north-west.

"Me too. Dat look like a busy schedule." He remarked while they walked.

"Ja, kinds of."

He studied the kid in the silence that followed. Most of his students were of the special snowflake variety, and he wondered what Toki's deal was. He would undoubtedly find out, in time.

"You ever accompany singers?" He asked to avoid an awkward silence.

Music was the only thing he knew how to talk about, but thankfully they had that interest in common.

"Nots if you don'ts counts church services."

"No, I means like opera singer and stuffs."

Toki shook his head.

"That somethings I shoulds look into?"

"No, I recommends you stays away from dem. Dey wants to be you friends so you can plays for dem all day."

He meant it as a joke, but Toki’s pensive frown made him unsure whether it came across as such.

As he glanced ahead, he accidentally bumped his shoulder into Toki's.

"Ursäkter."

Skwisgaar remembered physical proximity had seemed to make him uneasy, but Toki ignored this.

"I likes the idea - I loves playing with other peoples - but I's afraids I don'ts got times."

"You stay away from dem, den. Especially dat Nathan Explosion- speaks of de devil..." Skwisgaar said when a massive shadow joined his on the pavement.

Toki gave Nathan a smile and got a nod in return.

"Hey Skwisgaar, and eh, hm." Nathan trailed off on a mumble.

"Nathans, you mets Toki, rights?" Skwisgaar asked pointedly, because he could see Nathan had forgotten the kid's name.

"Yeah, we met. How are ye, kid?"

"Excellents." Toki said with an enthusiasm that was ninety percent bullshit. "Oh, I goes that way. God dag, Mr Skwigelf. Nathans."

Skwisgaar watched him disappear in the direction of the university.

"Hey, I asked you what that text was about, _Mr Skwigelf_." Nathan nudged him.

"Ja, I gots a call from Knubblers last night."

"About fucking time you got a gig. Tell me everything."

 

*******

**Notes**

Song of the Varangian Guest from Sadko by Nikolaj Rimsky-Korsakov. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6kkSlILnyU

 

 


	3. Agitata da due venti

Despite his promise to Knubbler, Skwisgaar still had nothing in the way of a good concert programme when Friday rolled around. He was torn between old favourites and obscure works that he wanted to give the attention they deserved, between complex compositions and sonatas that excelled in their simplicity.  He could not find a common denominator to create a balanced whole, not composers or themes, not the moods or styles. It was driving him up the wall - he had to get this right. He had been working towards this his entire adult life, for fuck’s sake.

Skwisgaar did not want to go to Knubbler empty-handed. Next thing he knew his agent would take matters into his own hands and throw some random clichés together. However, the only opportunity left to come up with something before the meeting was piecing songs together over his lunch break. It was a fairly hopeless endeavour at this point.

When he returned to the quiet of his music theory classroom with a bowl of soup and some tea it was already occupied. Without so much as a by-your-leave, Toki Wartooth had covered the table in books and lexicons with unintelligible script. Balancing his lunch, Skwisgaar peered over Toki's shoulder. The writing looked like mathematics at first glance; Skwisgaar recognised a few letters from grammar school. 

"Heja Toki."

"God dag, Mr Skwigelf." Toki said absently.

Skwisgaar opened a window. It was getting stuffy in the classroom with the sun glaring over the building, and a faint scent of sweat hung in the air.

"What's you doings math for?" He inquired.

Theology was an alpha study, right?

Toki did not answer until he finished jotting down a sentence in Norwegian.

"Is Greek."

He did not elaborate any further, flipping one of the vellum-y pages of a small blue book.

Skwisgaar grabbed his binder with sheet music and rifled through the scores aimlessly, hoping that inspiration would somehow strike. It did not help that his student kept muttering nonsense under his breath as if he could not read without mouthing the words. Doubtful a quiet room would have yielded anything better, he let it slide.

"... _ho de Pilatos èrootèsen auton legoon_ \- Da spurte Pilatus ham:" he whispered, scribbling furiously, " _su ei...hei_? - fan, jeg vet ikke-" Toki muttered impatiently.

He clapped a hand over his mouth at the curse that escaped him.

Skwisgaar glanced over and noticed red blotches rising in Toki's neck. The apparent embarrassment over getting caught swearing further consolidated Skwisgaar’s suspicion that Toki had had a conservative upbringing.

"... _ho basileus toon judaioon_ \- noe om jødenes konge. Ams... you... the kings of the Jews. Questskin marks."

Toki's left hand tapped out chords on the lined paper, and Skwisgaar watched his slender fingers animate the muscles in his forearm.

"K-k-k-joohoo!" A student in an eye-wrenching neon hoodie appeared in the doorway with a slide.

"Hallå," Skwisgaar greeted reservedly as the loud, obnoxious figure plopped down directly next to Toki.

"Hey, clergyman, what you up to?" The newcomer said, pawing at Toki's books.

Toki grabbed his wrist with lightning speed before he could disturb his carefully arranged work.

"Name's Toki. Don'ts touch my books." Toki said, his light voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"Okay baby, Dr Rockso don't mean anything by it."

Skwisgaar inwardly groaned. He had not known that Leonard Rockstein was the name that belonged to the pain-in-the-ass jazz singer who was rumoured to have failed three consecutive years of music theory - among other things. Other teachers often complained about the unruly class clown in the teacher's lounge, but Skwisgaar had never had the displeasure of meeting Rockso himself. It seemed as though his respite had ended this year.

He checked the clock: ten minutes to go until the start of the lesson. Why were his students so early? It must be the first week of the semester or something.

Toki returned to his translating, but after a minute Leonard leaned over again.

"Guess what I'm doing, baby? I'm doing it right now." He crooned in Toki's ear.

"Beings real annoyings?" Toki griped without looking up.

"Cocaine!" Leonard exclaimed.

Skwisgaar took a sip of his tea with an arched eyebrow, wondering if there would be any point in reporting that.

Toki put down his pen with a serious face.

"You gots a real problems there, Rockso. Drugs ams bads for you. You can'ts tells me doings drug ams ultimately fulfillings. What's you does that for? To covers up de emptiness of you out of controls life? Whats you need ams-"

"If you say ‘God’, I swear I'm going to punch you in the face." A third student, Toki’s polar opposite in appearance, stomped in and joined the argument in Bokmål. "Jævla helveta, I thought I'd finally seen the last of the Wartooths preaching hell and damnation when I left Lillehammer, but here you are again."

The pale face framed by long black-dyed hair twisted in deep seated agitation as he stared Toki down from the other side of the room.

“I’m not preaching.” Toki tilted his chin.

“You want to tell me that’s not the path you’re going down? I should have taken a match to your father’s church a long time ago. Maybe then you would have turned out to be a decent guy. You fucking hypocrite.”  

Skwisgaar stared open-mouthed at the unfolding row as Toki shot up from his chair with a clenched jaw.

"You want to take this outside, Snogge? If you still punches likes in grammar schools, I don'ts doubts I wills haves a good laugh beatings you into the grounds."

“Yeah, I bet you can’t wait to get your hands on me.”

Skwisgaar had always had the idea that Christians were pacifist softies, but the brand of militant aggression with which Toki rose to the challenge certainly did not fit that image. Even though he was skinny and not particularly tall, the room darkened with his mood. He had no doubt that Toki could take on the heavyset cellist and win. Emotion made the previously faint blotches in his neck rise to his cheeks.

"Take it easy, man, take it easy..."

Rockso raised his hands in an appeasing gesture, but it had no effect on Toki, who pushed past him towards Ronke.

"Put down the cello," Toki said with narrowed eyes. "Let's go."

It was time to intervene. What the hell did that kid think he was playing at, threatening people in his fucking class? Skwisgaar was the one who threatened people around here. Mostly with bad grades, but still. Remembering the way Toki had reacted during his piano lesson earlier that week, Skwisgaar raised his voice at him.

"TOKI!"

That caught his attention: he froze in the process of reaching for the front of Ronke's shirt.

"Sit down!" Skwisgaar barked. "Puts away dat archaic bullshits and gets out you syllable. All of you! You betters stows you crap, because you ams less dan nothing in dis classrooms. I fails you all if I sees you so much as sides-eye each others."

Toki had the grace to look chastened, bowing his head so his long bangs partially obscured his face.

"I apolgesize, Mr Skwigelf." He said quietly after he sat down and put his books away, raising big, pale blue eyes at him to see if his apology came across.

Skwisgaar frowned back. Ronke did not apologise, and sat down as far away from Toki as possible in the small classroom with a bitter expression.

"Numbers four of de solfège exorcisms," Skwisgaar leaned back in his chair to ram an E out of the piano behind him. "You. Sings it." He pointed at Rockso. "Dis ams you forst note. Goes!"

Skwisgaar sat back to listen to his smoky voice work through the exercise without much trouble. His success was a small wonder if this was his fourth try to pass this class. He might as well have memorised all the melodies in that time. The cellist had an unremarkable voice, and stumbled once on the simple line. Skwisgaar withheld comment as Ronke corrected himself, and motioned for Toki to try the next. When no sound was forthcoming after Skwisgaar played him his first note, he turned back to the table to raise an eyebrow at the red-faced kid.

"Wells?"

"I can'ts does it." Toki whispered, clearly mortified. "I don'ts know hows."

Right, he was self-taught.

"Huh, just pretends you goings to plays it. Whats shoulds it sound like? Think of dat, and den you sings it."

Toki opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out.

"Sings!" Skwisgaar barked. "Stops wastings my times."

Getting authoritarian with Toki yielded result at last. Rockso pressed a fist against his mouth as Toki made a number of mistakes in his barely audible attempt, and Skwisgaar sent him a warning glare. If he had not been in such a crappy mood he might have laughed at Toki himself, but balancing it against his own impending doom and his students' earlier misbehaviour he found no reason for humour.

A tension headache settled between his eyes as the lesson progressed and his appointment with Knubbler grew nearer. The students' shoddy participation worsened his mood by the second, so he let them go fifteen minutes before the end of the double hour. The sooner this was over, the better for all of them.

"Goes homes, torns on de showers and wash de shames off youselves."

He had to tell students this way too often, Skwisgaar thought while he rubbed his eyes.

"You shoulds be much betters after three years of dis," he told Leonard. "You. You suck, gets out of my sights and practice." He sneered at Ronke.

They packed up with indignant expressions. Rounding on Toki, Skwisgaar saved the worst for last.

"I don'ts even know why dey lets you in here," he bit out, conveniently forgetting that he had approved Toki's audition himself.

The raw emotion with which the kid had played Skwisgaar’s favourite Rachmaninoff sonata had made his fingers itch to teach him how to hone his technique and do it proper justice. His colleague Magnus had been doubtful about Toki’s terrible Theory entry exam, but Skwisgaar had exercised his authority in the kid’s favour.

"I gots no words to describes how bads you dids."

The resignation in Toki's posture cut his tirade short.

"I's sorries. I does better next times." Toki said through gritted teeth.

"Make shores you does." Skwisgaar tempered his tone a little as he saw his students out.

Closing the lid on the piano, his nerves to caught up to him full force. It was time.

 

*******

By Thursday evening of his second week of classes Toki was nearing the end of his rope. He was behind on everything except his piano lessons, and the sense of impending failure hung over him like a storm cloud. The coursework for the languages had been enough to keep him occupied all evening, and he still had to practice. The new sonata that Mr Skwigelf had assigned him was a monumental challenge, even more so with the panic rising in his throat. He would just have to practice his breathing another time.

Something had to give, and he was afraid it was going to be his sanity since he could not choose between music, his new friend and his duty.

Toki knew his knowledge of philosophy was not up to scratch to follow the Master seminar, but there was too much he liked about it to drop the class straight away. It was fascinating; he felt like he was really using his mind trying to keep up with the brilliant professor, and the ethics side was very applicable to real life. He also did not want to stop hanging out with Pickles, because he liked and admired the guy even though he was kind of the wrong sort. Toki was not sure what they would have left in common if he did not do this, since Pickles probably thought he was an obnoxious little Bible thumper without a mind of his own. He needed to show him that he could be an interesting friend without resorting to more drastic measures such as accepting drugs and alcohol from him.

It would be a waste to give up on all the work he had done for the Church Music minor, because he had already gotten last year’s ECTs for it - not to mention that it was essential to understanding most of what went on in liturgy. All things considered, it felt as if he had dug himself into a hole so deep that he could not see the light anymore.

The soft sound of sneakers on carpet approached as he rested his head against the lacquered wood of the piano. For a moment he thought it was Far Orlaag come to tell him to wrap it up, but then he remembered the priest did not, in fact, wear trainers.

"Hey Toki. Murderface told me I'd find yew here. Well, naht literally, big secret 'n all that, but I know where ye play, so."

"Hei Pickle." Toki sighed. "I don'ts really gots time to hangs out and be pals."

"Let me guess, yer swamped."

"Yeah," he groaned unhappily.

"Yer a dumb dildo, ye know that?"

Toki did not have the energy to chide him for his language.

"Why'd ye take ahn so much werk? Jehst... why? It's like yer tryin' teh bury yerself alive in ECTs!" Pickles exclaimed, ducking his head at the echo of his raised voice from the vaulted ceiling.

"I wants to does all de greats things like the musics and hangs out, cause they makes me happies, but I also gots to does well in Theology."

"Jehst drahp a couple'a classes. Yer naht a machine."

"Like whats, Pickle? The only stuff I really loves ams extracurriculars."

"I donno, dood, can't ye think of anything that would make yer life a lil' easier? Kin I get ye some pills? I hear ritalin's grea-"

"You know I's not takings any drugs."

Toki looked up to frown at him.

"Suit yerself."

Pickles slid down the wall to take up the spot that Toki had begun to think of as his. He came around often, and Toki suspected Pickles was just a lonely as he was, most of the time, and bored to boot. 

"Would it help if I made yer assignment fer the seminar?" Pickles offered.

"Don'ts you got better thing to does? Like your thesis?"

Toki tried to evade the topic by making Pickles' academic failures take centre stage instead.

"Take it or leave it, halo patrol."

Pickles licked his rolling paper, making a neat row of joints on the carpet in front of him. It had become too common a sight for Toki to summon the righteous indignation that his friend dared to do that in a house of God. To be honest, having a friend gave him infinitely more satisfaction than championing his faith. It was one of the things he kept clashing over with his father; Toki favoured people over rules, and he was convinced that his opinion was backed by the New Testament. Aslaug was more of an Old Testament kind of man - he did not compromise on dogma.

"Fines, what's you angle?" Toki asked critically.

Nobody did other people’s coursework unless they wanted something in return.

"Ye gahtta come over to my place on Saturday and have beer and pizza. I want ye teh meet some friends of mine."

"Pickle..."

"Beer. And pizza. I prahmise you Gahd ain't gonna smite ye."

"I'ms not afraid of Gods." Toki said quietly.

"That's a weird thing teh say fer a theologian."

Pickles' eyes raked along the sparsely ornamented walls of the church.

"I'ms the worst theologian you'll evers meet," Toki confessed, "and a hypocrites."

To his father's standards, he was probably already lost with no hope of redemption, but he still kept on pretending he could be alright if he abided by their faith.

"Ye still believe at all?" Pickles asked with surprising sensitivity.

"Not sures. The more I studies, the less mysteries ams left, and the less sense it make with what I was taught. I believes more in mine father's hand than in an eternities I can'ts fathom."

"So he beat ye into doing this?" Pickles asked angrily.

"Nots like dat," Toki corrected. "I just don'ts want to lets my parents down. I depends on them for everythings, so I wents along with the plan when I gradsuated."

"That's messed up, Toki, but ye know what? I think ye kin pull it ahff. Ye gahtta be smart aboot it, though. Git help where ye kin. Ye gahtta look out fer yerself."

"How do I does that, Pickle? I don'ts even know where to begins anymore."

Toki stared at his score without seeing the notes.

"I ain't the best person to give advice aboot studyin', but I wanna help ye, okay? Finish yer practice and I'll come with ye teh talk aboot it."

Toki nodded slowly and returned to his sonata. It was a light-hearted Mozart that did not suit his mood or skills at all, but apparently Skwigelf wanted to draw him out of his comfort zone.

Pickles' phone buzzed at frequent intervals, and though his laughing while texting occasionally distracted him, Toki thought his presence was comforting.

"What's you laughings about?" He asked when he was satisfied with his progress for the night.

"My friend Nath'n's jehst texted me. He's gaht this friend who's a little on the... well, I donno, rilly. I met 'im only once. Supposedly he's a genius, but weird, kinda, ye know, a in a sociopath kind of way or high functionin’ autism or somethin'. He's finally gittin' his big break and now he's losing his shit. Told Nath'n to make a video. It's even better than when Nate gaht his wisdom teeth pulled." Pickles laughed.

"Nathans who?" Toki asked for good measure.

"Explosion, ye heard of 'im? Cahm teh think of it, you do go to the same school. Smug, fat asshole, black hair, rilly tall..."

"Yeah, I mets him!" Toki said excitedly.

"Small town." Pickles huffed.

Back in the warm and stuffy townhouse, Pickles went over Toki's schedule with him. Murderface's History Channel show blared up the stairwell through the open door, but at least they had some ventilation that way. 

"The way I see it, ye got too much on yer plate." Pickles said. "Ye're gahnna need an extra year if yew wanna do all this. There any chance yer dad's gahnna accept that?"

"No." Toki sighed. "No ways in hell. He don'ts know I's in the piano programs."

"So these subjects,' Pickles coloured the theology curriculum with a yellow marker, 'are nahn-negotiable."

"Rights."

"What yer left with is piano lessons, Music Theory, piano coaching, Gregorian - what the fuck is that even - Liturgy, Church Music and the Master seminar."

"Yups."

Suppressing a hysterical giggle, Toki kept his mouth shut for fear he would break down next.

"What are ye gahnna drop?"

Pickles' pierced eyebrows knitted over his sharp gaze.

"Nots my pianos minor." Toki lifted his chin stubbornly. "I rather dies than does that."

"Sure you do." Pickles grimaced at him. "So naht piano, and I kin help ye with philahsephy..."

"Pickle, I can'ts drop anything. We don'ts let go the work of our hands... and all that." He protested.

_Our help is in the name of the Lord, who has made heaven and earth, who remains true for all eternity, and does not let go the work that his hands began..._

"How's yer Hebrew?"

The silence stretched for a moment before Toki broke.

"Terrible."

"I'm gahnna say this only once, 'n then ye gahtta figure it oot fer yerself. Drahp the dumb church music minor, and git help with yer languages." Pickles implored him. "The Robot is great with Greek, ye know. Feck, he's great with everythin', 'n he rilly wants all his ducks in a row." He added as an afterthought. "He'll help ye."

"I thinks about it." Toki conceded.

Asking for help was not his strong suit. It was frightening to display the amount of vulnerability needed for admitting defeat, and it had been a long time since he had dared to be vulnerable.

"Yew better. Kin we git some cahffee in here? I feel tired jehst lookin' at yer workload."

 

*******

"Wakey, wakey, eggsch and bakey!"

Murderface's lisp cut through Toki's door and his sleep simultaneously. Toki rolled over and swiped his hair out of his eyes and mouth to glance at his alarm clock. He should start wearing a ponytail to bed. It was only 7.30, and class did not start until 10 on Fridays. Today was going to be awful, but now that his housemate had woken him, he might as well make an attempt to face his two least favourite classes prepared. He did not hate Hebrew per se, because the prof was a hilarious, kind man and a great storyteller, but it was hard to keep up with the murderous pace. Laughing about his word jokes and anecdotes about the Bible's dirty translation secrets made it hard to focus on the strange grammar.

In contrast, Toki did hate music theory already after the one class last week. It had been humiliating in the extreme. His fellow students were the two people in Oslo he least wanted to associate himself with, let alone embarrass himself in front of, and clearly Skwigelf hated teaching it as much as Toki hated how he taught it.

The way Skwigelf took out his temper on his students was the most unprofessional conduct Toki had ever experienced from a teacher, but it looked like he was stuck with him if he wanted to continue the piano lessons. Skwigelf's peculiar didactics, that centred around bullying students into better performance, permeated his private lessons as well, but one-on-one it was more bearable to be called out on his mistakes.

Toki had briefly looked into joining a certain Mr Hammersmith's course, but he had not actually made a move to switch, yet. For now, he was going to grit his teeth and do his best

Joining Murderface at the kitchen table earned him a generous helping of breakfast. His housemate was still in his robe, which was unusual for a weekday.

"Thanks, Moidaface," Toki mumbled around a mouthful of scrambled egg. "Why amen'ts you at work?"

"I'm schick." Murderface grinned.

"You don'ts look sick."

He looked as healthy as a horse, albeit a bit disgusting as usual, and he was in a good mood, too.

"Alright, I'm schick of work." Murderface admitted. "I'm taking a schick day for the hell of it."

"Whats a work ethic." Toki said with disapproval.

It explained a lot about Murderface being on his third job this year.

"Without my work ethic, you wouldn't be having breakfascht right now! Ha!" Murderface jeered childishly.

"No, I woulds still be asleeps."

"Why were you schtill aschleep at thisch hour?"

"Palled around with Pickle a bit late. He helps me with my courseworks."

"Really? Scho you’re finally making schome friendsch around here, huh?"

His housemate did not have any friends that Toki knew of, just an obnoxious grandmother and a grandfather who had a dead cat. Or was a dead cat. Toki was not clear about that part.

"Yups, looks like it. I like Pickle a lot."

"What would your dad schay, though?" Murderface asked slyly.

"I don'ts wants to think abouts that." Toki shut down the topic.

They chewed in silence for a while.

"Scho what are you gonna do today?"

"Now that I'ms up I mights as well studies for Hebrews. Or Music Theories." Toki said with a grimace.

"Yeah, before what's-his-face tears you a new one..."

"A new whats?"

"Ugh, Toki..." Murderface heaved a sigh. "A new asschhole. What? That'sch an expresschion!" He said in response to Toki's reproachful look.

"Yeah, he's pretty means, if that whats you was gettings at. Wowee, I'ms still nots over last week."

There was a well of anger laced with shame inside him that occasionally bubbled up in his chest when he thought about anything remotely related to the subject. What a disaster.

"Well, you better practische scho he getsch off your casche."

"Befores I smash his fingers between the lids of his piano…!"

"Woah, take it easy, bro. Isch it me or did you become even more of a pschychopath over the schummer?"

Toki did not grace that with a response, continuing his original topic.

"Gots two double classes todays, and then I'ms free - to does my homeworks for next weeks all weekends."

"Scho what wasch that about a party on Saturday, then? Are you scheriouschly going to a party at that Picklesch' housche?"

"I haves to, in returns for him writings my assignment, so I won'ts be eatings here."

"You know there'sch gonna be drugsch and booze, right?"

Murderface studied him with amusement.

"I expects it."

"Can I come?"

Toki shrugged.

"I asks him for you, but don'ts expects me to sticks around long in that dens of iniquities."

Lost from eternal salvation already or not, if Toki could avoid being pressured into something he should not do, like using alcohol or drugs in excess, he would.

"You can just leave, I'm charming enough by myschelf, I can't help it."

"I let you knows." His chair scraped on the tiles as he got up. "Morituri te salutant, Moidaface."

"Are you gonna kill yourschelf?"

"No, Skwigelf will probably does dat for me this afternoons."

 

*******

Skwisgaar was fairly certain that his Friday afternoon class consisted of individuals who were all talented people in their own right, but together they created a charged atmosphere that made both teaching and learning all but impossible. His usual urge to pull his hair out over his idiot students was only made worse by the lack of sleep.

The finer points of human interaction had always been a mystery to him, and he was at a loss how to de-escalate the tension. Not feeling in control in both his personal and professional life had Skwisgaar up the wall, and things got from bad to worse as soon as his students set foot in his classroom.

Though Toki and Ronke had not spoken since their initial blowout last week the aggression smouldered on, palpable even to Skwisgaar - though he did not give a shit about their issues as long as they shut up.

In contrast, Leonard seemed to be extra sensitive to the strain. He got more jittery with every baleful look that passed between Toki and Ronke, trying to distract everyone with badly timed jokes and general attention-whoring.

The harsh criticism Skwisgaar dished out did not help to alleviate anyone’s agitation, though Ronke and Leonard seemed relieved most of it was aimed at Toki, the factotum who kept the entire class back with his ignorance and his baggage. 

Skwisgaar wonder vaguely if saying that out loud had been a mistake. Had he gone too far by making it personal? How the fuck did other people gauge what was and what wasn’t acceptable to say?

It did have effect, in any case.

Something gave in the way that Toki did not meet anyone’s eyes anymore for the remainder of the hour. The others seemed more subdued as well, whether out of fear for a similar personalised tongue-lashing or because they focused on the lesson better.

It was a mess, but Skwisgaar really could not care less about teaching at the moment.

He had been up all night after his initial freak-out following the sealed deal with the concert promoter, first in celebration with Nathan and Knubbler, and later alone, panicking over how he was going to manage. They had given him a very short deadline to get his shit together, and there was just so much to take care of. He would be touring throughout Fennoscandia for four weeks, and while most of it would coincide with the Christmas break….

Taking a deep breath, he tried to school himself to calm. He needed to get organised, make a to-do list, work with that.

Venting his frustration on his charges had not actually alleviated the nausea that threatened to cripple him as he walked down the stairs to the lobby of the conservatory.

Nathan shot him a reproachful look from where he and Abigail quietly spoke to a stunned Toki, and mouthed 'what the hell?', but Skwisgaar had no mind for anyone but himself right now.

 

*******

**Notes**

Agitata da due venti freme l'onda in mar turbato. E 'l nocchiero spaventato già s'aspetta a naufragar - Buffeted by two winds, by trembling waves in the turbulent sea, the frightened steersman already awaits to be shipwrecked. Aria from Griselda by Antonio Vivaldi. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWYaPE2WZNs

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Da spurte Pilatus ham" - Pilate asked him

"Fan, jeg vet ikke" - Fuck, I don't know

"Noe om jødenes konge" - Something about the king of the Jews

Latin

"Morituri te salutant" - Those who are about to die greet you

 

 

 


	4. Piano concerto no. 1

When his doorbell rang early on Saturday evening, Skwisgaar was secretly glad for the distraction, because even the Dragonriders had failed to offer him that so far. He had been steadily working towards completing the concert programme, but it was not perfect yet, and he could not let it go. He had been playing his elected pieces over and over all day, trying to push himself to greater heights, but presently his wrists were starting to ache with fatigue.

Skwisgaar was not surprised to see Nathan when he opened the door, as impromptu palling around was his style. The pastel polo shirt his friend was wearing definitely was _not_ something he would have expected. He suspected it had everything to do with the presence of Abigail, who was equally smartly dressed in a white blouse and a turquoise necklace. Apparently they had plans other than spilling chips all over his couch.

He ran a hand across his face and raised his eyebrows at him.

"Skwisgaar, we know you're obsessing about that concert in there, so we've come to take you with us. No more piano tonight." Nathan cut right to the chase.

"Huh..." He protested unintelligently.

"Come on, it'll be good for you to step away from it for a while." Abigail lightly tapped his arm.

"Where's we goings?" Skwisgaar asked, not entirely opposed to the idea of going out.

"To a friend's house. Go put some clothes on."

"I gots clothes on."

"You're wearing pyjama pants. You just rolled out of bed and played all day, didn't you? Put on some jeans." Nathan ordered.

Stepping aside to invite Abigail and Nathan into his house, Skwisgaar left them to their own devices while he got dressed. He did not bother with the typical combination of slacks and blazers that he wore to work, instead pulling grey jeans and a black top from his closet. His hair was a rat's nest since his afternoon nap, but giving his loose curls a comb-through resulted in more frizz than anything else, so he put it back in a tail with a disparaging huff. Abigail's voice singing a soulful melody to the soft sounds of his piano filtered up the stairs while he looked for the socks he liked to wear in his boots. Neither singer could go five minutes in the presence of an instrument without bursting into song. Nathan even played a fair bit, so the possibility was always there when they were together. Briefly considering swapping his glasses for contacts, Skwisgaar decided he could not be arsed and went downstairs.

"I haven'ts had dinners yet, cans I gets you guys anythings?" He asked.

"Pickles said there would be pizza, let's roll." Nathan said.

"Pickle... dat de guy with de dreads?"

Nathan had a ton of friends, and he was fairly sure he had met them all at some point.

"Hm, you remember. Yeah, he lives in those flats over at the university. You wanna take a bus or something, Abigail?" Nathan eyed her heeled shoes.

"Nah, walking's fine."

Abigail set a brisk pace once they were outside, and Skwisgaar had to lengthen his stride to catch up after locking the door behind him. He sidestepped their queries about how his programme was coming together, and he was saved from further inquisition by arriving at their destination: a big, concrete flat surrounded by an unholy amount of cast off furniture and bicycles.

Pickles' room situated on one of the higher floors of the student housing, and the smell of poor cooking and unwashed everything hung heavy in the hallways as they made their way up. The door was ajar; the thrum of voices, soft ambient music and the smell of pot spilled out into the hallway. Nathan pushed inside with the same familiarity he used at Skwisgaar's house, reaching back with his bulky arm to keep the door open for Abigail. Seeing how many people were already crammed into the small space, Skwisgaar went to the bathroom first to regroup. He twisted his long tail around his hand to get his frizzy hair to lie flat and pushed his round glasses back up his nose. He was not fond of crowds, but parties like these were usually the best opportunities to pick someone up. He would take a good look around. 

When he joined Abigail and Nathan on the faded sofa underneath the loft bed, the ugliest guy he had ever seen passed him a beer and a slice of pizza that had approximately the same temperature. Nathan juggled his, trying his damndest not to eat like a pig in Abigail's presence. Skwisgaar wolfed his down without a care for appearances.

The clinking sound of beer bottles emerged from the kitchen, and Pickles looked up with interest from where he was hitting a blunt on a threadbare tasselled cushion.

"Dood, sit down! Have ye even had any beer yet? Or are ye tryin' teh git me so drunk I'll ferget aboot it?" Pickles said as he accepted a bottle.

"Pickle, you been drunk since before I gots here."

Skwisgaar recognised that disapproving tone, and so did Abigail.

"Hey sweetie, come here!" She called.

Sweetie? That was about the last endearment he would associate with Toki Wartooth, what with his unpredictably judgemental and aggressive tendencies.

Toki's eyes widened imperceptibly as they slid over Skwisgaar towards the sound of her voice. This was awkward, meeting him here after the verbal thrashing of epic proportions Skwisgaar had given him in class yesterday. What was that kid even doing here with all these older people? Didn't he have friends his own age? Toki looked hesitant to approach, and greeted Abigail in a polite and timid manner.

"Hey, little dildo, I didn't know you were friends with that old waste of clean air!" Nathan laughed.

Pickles flipped him off.     

"Ja, eh, Pickle ams a real good pals." Toki said while keeping his distance, clutching a beer like he did not know what to do with it. "I shoulds be goings. Lots of courseworks tomorrow." He turned around to Pickles, shoving the bottle at him.

"Like hell yew are. Sit down. Ye prahmised, we had a deal!" Pickles protested while he fended off Toki's attempts to get rid of his drink.

Toki eventually sat down next to Pickles with a nervous intake of breath, ducking half behind the gargoyle that had given Skwisgaar his pizza. Skwisgaar watched with interest as they banded together to disabuse Toki of his abstinence.

"Fair isch fair, Toki!" The gargoyle rounded on the kid, staring him down with Pickles until Toki took a sip. "There you go! That waschn't scho hard! Hey, aren't you gonna introdusche me to your other friendsch?"

Toki swallowed with a grimace, and pointed at the couch for the gargoyle's benefit.

"Is Abigails, she real nice and gots a voice like and angels; Nathans ams also a real cool singers," he relayed quietly, "and that ams my piano teachers."

They locked gazes for a moment, but Toki looked away quickly.

"Ooooh..." The ugly guy's face lit up with schadenfreude at Toki's behest. Apparently Skwisgaar's reputation preceded him. "You got a name, piano teacher?" He called.

"Is Skwisgaar."

"Schkwischgaar? What kind of name isch that?"

"Why don'ts you call my moms and ask?" Skwisgaar dismissed the question with a sneer.   

"You can call him Swedish dildo licker, if that's easier. It's what everyone else calls him." Nathan guffawed on the other side of Abigail. "And what's your name?"

"William, but I go by Murderfasche." Gargoyle supplied after a fit of obnoxious laughter at Nathan’s words. 

Skwisgaar scanned the room for potential hook-ups, but the handful of people present were unfortunately of the Pickles variety; a little too out of it for his taste.

"Pickle, I really don'ts like this drinks." Toki mumbled, holding up his half-empty bottle to see how much he had left.

"Alright, I'll fix ye somethin' else, hang on."

Pickles returned with a long drink glass filled with juice, and Skwisgaar was willing to bet he spiked it heavily with liquor.

"Thanks, Pickle. Oh, I likes this!" Toki declared after tasting it.

"Here ye gooo, buddy. I'm gahnna... uhl. Gahnna go teh the bathroom fer a minute," Pickles gagged a little and pressed a fist to his mouth.

Skwisgaar turned away from the scene before him to listen to Abigail. She was telling Nathan about an upcoming concert of her favourite singer, and judging by Nathan's expression, he was taking mental notes to buy her the tickets. From the amount of time they spent together since the start of the semester, Skwisgaar was not so sure anymore if she was still as immune to his fumbling attempts at wooing her.

Across the room, Toki accepted another glass from a wolfishly grinning Murderface. The hapless kid obviously had no idea. When Murderface left his side to admire Pickles' collection of bongs, Skwisgaar took up the vacant spot next to Toki. Pale eyes narrowing was the only acknowledgement he got.

"I wouldn'ts finish dat if you don'ts want to puke you guts out."

"Is just juice."

"Lets me smells dat."

Toki passed him the glass with a slightly uncoordinated shrug, sloshing juice over the rim onto their hands. The sharp scent of rum was obvious to Skwisgaar's nose.

"Moidaface spikes it."

"Oh, thats bastard," Toki slurred his speech a little. "Tasty, though." He scratched aimlessly at his neck and jaw, "What's wrongs with my face?"

"I gets you a glass of waters, you feels betters in a minutes."

Gauging Toki to be mildly intoxicated when he accepted the water, Skwisgaar sat down next to him again. He liked talking to drunk people. His boundless curiosity sometimes came off as creepy to others, but he just had very few limits when it came to conversational topics. Inebriated people went along with that a lot easier, and he had some questions for Toki that were perhaps a little forward.

"So what's de deals with you and dat Ronke Snogge?" He asked.

Obviously their feud was a bit more personal than the expected polemic between a Black Metaller and a Christian fundamentalist.

Toki's eyes widened to focus on Skwisgaar through the stringy hair that fell in his face.

"Oh, eh… We were friends for a while in grammar schools. When my dads founds out dat we gots up to more than chemistries projects he gots real mads and went ballistics on dat guy. Wasn't allowed to pals around with him anymores. Ronke tooks it very personal, and he hates me for not standings up to my dads ever since. Mades de rest of school pretty damns strained."

Toki looked confused as to why his language filter did not work.

“What did you guys get up to, then?”

“…playings guitars, listens to metals... stuff.”

"Dats kinds of sads." Skwisgaar commented. "Waits, you likes metals, too?"

"I don'ts knows a whole lot of bands because I nots supposed to, which am stupids, but yeah." 

Skwisgaar hummed in amusement, piecing Toki's old fashioned manners and obedience together with his highly flammable temper a bit better after these divulgences. Obedience was not in Toki's nature, but his father must rule him with an iron fist.

Toki put down his water and touched Skwisgaar's bushy tail, following the frizzy curls with a finger.

"Your hair am real cools, Mr Skwigelf."

"Huh. You's can calls me Skwisgaar, here, I guess." He offered.

"Wowee, okay. I'ms growings mine out, too." Toki wrapped a strand around his finger and gave it a critical look. "Takes ages, though."

"It shores does."

Skwisgaar’s own hair did not grow terribly fast either, especially in the dark winter months when vitamin D was so scarce that the lack often made his nails split.

"Skwisgaar, a little help over here?" Nathan called from the hallway.

Skwisgaar got up to check it out with Toki trailing after him. Pickles sprawled in the doorway of the bathroom, his face in a puddle of his own throw-up.

"Ugh," Nathan dry heaved, and Skwisgaar felt his gag reflex play up in response. "What are we gonna do with him?"

"Throws a buckets of waters over him or some shits like dat," Skwisgaar suggested. He was not touching other people's puke with a ten foot pole.

"Oh, Pickle," Toki sighed, pushing past Skwisgaar, "why you does this to yourself?"

The kid picked the short redhead up like he was a ragdoll and set him on the toilet. 

"You got this, Toki?" Nathan asked in a tight voice, turning to leave.

"Sures," Toki said, fiddling with the taps of the shower. "Pickle. Pickle!"

A sharp slap made Skwisgaar flinch and Pickles open his eyes for a moment.

"Cleans yourself up." Toki said as he pushed him towards the shower.

When Pickles staggered into the spray, Toki picked up his discarded clothing and threw them in the laundry machine with the soiled bathroom rug.

"Can I helps with things?" Skwisgaar asked, loathe to stand by uselessly but not eager to do any gross chores.

His detached disgust mingled with admiration for the resolute way in which Toki did what needed to be done, especially since he could not imagine doing that himself. Toki washed his hands and forearms at the sink and considered it.

"Grabs a bucket from the kitchens?"

Toki hosed down the bathroom floor while Pickles formed a boneless heap under the running water. Skwisgaar set the bucket next to Pickles' unmade bed, and fetched a bottle of water and painkillers for when he woke up. When Toki dropped Pickles on the bed without further ado he let his head loll back. Skwisgaar stepped in to show him how to arrange his wasted friend properly.

"Dis way he don'ts choke on hims throw up."

"Didn'ts know that. Mights come in handy." Toki gave him a wry smile.

"Since when ams you okay with substance abuse?"

"Whats make you think I am?" Toki replied with an air that spelled trouble for Pickles later.

"Dat a religion thing?"

"No. Don'ts got no problem with people havings drinks. But the way I sees it, Pickle am drownings him problems insteads of facings them. Same as that Rockso whats does cocaine at one PM on a weekday. They needs help with that."

"Why not lets dem soffers de consequences?" Skwisgaar asked. In his opinion, people learned faster that way. “Amen’ts you problem.”

"Now that _ams_ a religions thing. Is goods to help others."

"Because you book say so?" Skwisgaar stressed the narrow-mindedness of that idea.

"The book only make explicit what am unstrinsically goods so everyone know."

"Alrights," Skwisgaar said, his curiosity satisfied for now. "interestings point."

Nathan and Abigail had vacated the low couch to talk in the mild night air on the balcony, and Toki flopped down on it, still a little buzzed.

"So I was wonderings," he said, not quite looking at Skwisgaar, "does you really hates teachings me that bad? Yesterdays kinds of crossed a lines for me. I can always ask Mr Selftcark or Mr Hammersmith..."

Skwisgaar was a little taken aback at being directly confronted about his behaviour, even though Toki was polite about it.

"No! No, I don'ts hate-" Skwisgaar took off his glasses to pointlessly clean them on his shirt. "I… don'ts deals well with stress, and..."

Toki looked up at him with his hopeful puppy eyes.

"I don'ts hates you. Is just... I gots to go on tours dis winters for de forst times, and it am kinds of overwhelmings."

Skwisgaar did not know why he admitted that to Toki.

"That's so cools!" Toki gasped. "But scary..."

"Ja," he sighed.

He _was_ scared.

"Bye, Skwisgaar, Nathan and I are going into town."

The singers joined the exodus of people now that their host was out of the picture. Abigail halted in front of the couch and squeezed Toki's arm.

"Take care, sweetie. I'll see you guys on Tuesday." 

"What she said." Nathan grunted in a manner of greeting.

"Haves a greats times!" Skwisgaar gave Nathan a meaningful look.

"Sees you." Toki echoed.

Skwisgaar looked around the nearly empty room. Apart from Murderface attacking a bowl of chips while watching Pickles' small TV, it was just him and Toki. He wondered if it was time to go home.

"Whats you playings at your concerts?" Toki asked before he had the chance to get up.

"Dat's actually interestings. Eh, I'ms not quite satisfieds with de programme yet, but I gots to finalise it on Monday."

"No wonders you's freakings out!" Toki said unhelpfully, but talking to him gave Skwisgaar an idea.

"Woulds you helps me with something?"

Toki was probably the most unbiased person he could find on such short notice. He had good taste and a great musical ear, and his judgement was not yet completely molded by the prevailing opinions everyone at the conservatory eventually conformed to. Skwisgaar needed that.

"Sures, what?"

"Listens to it and tells me whats you think?"

"You wants Toki to helps you with that? Wowee." Toki said softly as he sat back with an astonished expression.

"Has you gots time tomorrows?"

Toki frowned, thinking.

"Yeah, I makes it work."

Getting up, the kid picked up empty bottles and crockery and brought them to the kitchen.

"Pickle can does the dishes himself," he said as Skwisgaar brought in a few beer bottles he had overlooked.

Taking the garbage with him, Toki pushed one of the bags into Murderface's hands.

"Let's goes. I gots to take a fuckings nap. Sees you, Skwisgaar."

Maybe Abigail had a point after all, Skwisgaar thought as the door clicked shut behind him.

 

*******

With his body completely unused to alcohol Toki had a bit of trouble getting started the next day. He barely recognised the puffy eyes in the mirror. It was not quite a hangover since he did not go to bed drunk, but his system was not operating at full capacity when he got out at nine.  He could not really afford to go to Mr Skwigelf - Skwisgaar - with the amount of work he was supposed to do today. Despite Pickles' insistence, Toki had not found it in himself to drop anything more than the Gregorian class. He did not miss it - he had a terrible singing voice anyway - but it did not alleviate much of the workload either.

Swamped or not, he would not pass up on the opportunity to see Mr Skwigelf play for anything his curriculum threw at him. Nathan had made him extremely curious by throwing terms like 'genius' and 'world's fastest' around when talking about Skwisgaar. The more Toki's excitement grew, the less patience he had for his studies. He began by meticulously reading the chapters about synod hierarchy for Church Law, but he skimmed the material about something called entelechy for the Master seminar. After rushing his translation of 1 Samuel 16 for Hebrew he fell asleep on his liturgy syllabus until Skwisgaar texted him an address. The message alert startled him from drooling onto his reading material, and he sat up with bleary eyes.

Stepping into his scuffed shoes, he pocketed his key and phone and pounded on Murderface's door with a goodbye on his way downstairs. The overcast sky was a nice change from the late summer warmth. If it rained now, it would be one of those showers that filled the air with the smell of vegetation, and Toki was kind of hoping for that as he made his way past the conservatory and the medical centre towards the park. He arrived at Skwisgaar's house dry, however, and fiddled with the vines that crept along the façade of the ‘30’s architecture while he waited. He rang the doorbell again when no one answered, and this time Skwisgaar opened the door with metal blasting at his back.

Toki thought his teacher looked a bit more composed in comparison to the previous week. The knowledge that he had been under a lot of stress made Toki a little more sympathetic towards him, but not by much. He was glad they had managed to clear the air between them last night, because he did not know how much tolerance he would have for a second figure of authority giving him hell.  

"What's you listenings to?" Toki asked as he toed off his shoes and put them on the rack.

"Technical death metals."

Toki took a moment to appreciate the intricate guitars when he followed Skwisgaar into his minimally furnished living room. It was very Spartan and very bright; the French doors into an overgrown backyard allowed daylight to reflect off the mostly white surfaces. Toki thought it looked sterile, being more accustomed to his parents' dark wooden cottage and the equally gloomy stave church. His own room in the city was an uncoordinated mess of cheap utilitarian furniture, but at least he had some colour here and there. The only thing that was not white in Skwisgaar's living room was the grand piano underneath one of the windows. It was such a beautiful instrument that it made Toki smile without having even heard it.

"You wants some coffees? You coulds probably use it." Skwisgaar eyed him with a half-smile.

"Please." Toki replied, rubbing his eyes.

Skwisgaar stood around awkwardly after he handed Toki his mug, fidgeting with his own. Toki yawned.

“So… dids you come here from Lillehammer today?”

Toki looked at him stupidly, wondering how he knew he was from Lillehammer.

“No, eh, I don’ts usually go there unless I really haves to.”

“Oh, I thoughts… you know, it beings Sundays and all.”

Wondering what Sundays had to do with anything, he studied Skwisgaar’s face. He had the kind of complexion you only saw in the far north, an almost colourless, even skin tone, surpassed in pallor only by the hair that hung down his chest and back.

A little slow on the uptake, the coin dropped.

“Oh, you thoughts I’d have to bes in church?”

Skwisgaar nodded.

“I keeps busy with faith all weeks for my studies, so I don’ts really feel like goings to church much. Besides, we holds the Sabbath like the Jews. On Saturdays.”

“I… didn’ts know dat… what kinds of church am dat?”

“Not ones anyone woulds want to goes to.”

“Why?”

Toki shrugged. He didn’t come here to talk religion. A pointed look at the piano made Skwisgaar clear his throat and set his mug in the windowsill beside the instrument. Toki did not want to sit on the pristine couch, so he pulled up a ladder-back chair to where he could watch Skwisgaar.

“Shall I just…huh… plays what I has in minds?”

Skwisgaar wiped his fingers on his grey jeans before absently feeling out the keys.

 “You’s the expert.”

Skwisgaar inclined his head in acquiescence, and intoned his first piece.  

It was every bit as good as Nathan had said, and then some. Every measured, graceful movement of his hands exuded the intent of Skwisgaar's interpretation as he played, and there was something about his body language that made the shivers run up Toki's spine as much as the haunting melodies and compelling chords he coaxed from the piano. Toki forgot the world during the hour Skwisgaar played, honing in on dancing fingers and intense expressions, and eventually forgetting even those as the music spun an abstract story in his head with whirls of colour.

"Whats of dat do you think?" Skwisgaar asked when silence stretched after the last note.

Going over the perceived storyline in his head, Toki found that something was not right. The songs were strung together wrong, but in the right order they could be chainfire.

"Swaps the fourth and the fifth piece," he suggested. "and use the penultimates one as the openings."

"But de endings of five and de beginnings of four forms a discrepancies."

"No, ams a plot twist."

"Dat's a weirds thing to says." Skwisgaar raised one of his barely-there eyebrows.

"That's whats you says now," Toki said. "I mights not think like you, but I listens to what you tryings to says. You don'ts haves to does it, but perhaps you wills sees when you plays it like that." 

"No, seriouslies, whats you means 'plot twist'?"

"You's tellings a story with your music, is obvious to me. Stories gots to be in the rights order to makes sense, and I don'ts mean chronologicals."

"Ams you a big readers, den?"

"Nah. Don'ts reads except for schools. I just haves a very actives imaginations." He explained. "Though the amounts of readings I does for schools am pretty big. I don'ts know whats my point ams anymore."

"You tireds?" Skwisgaar cocked his head at him.

"Been up since forevers tryings to does my coursework. Fell asleep on my books earlier." Toki grinned.

"So dats what dat black smudge on you face am." Skwisgaar laughed; a low, dorky chuckle. "Why’s I even takings advice from you?"

"Ams you?"

"Ja, I tries it laters. Will you listens agains?"

"Eh," Toki hesitated.

God knew he wanted to stay to see if it worked out the way he imagined, but he had already wasted so much time today.

"I woulds love to, but I really shoulds go home. Still gots to does Greek and plays myself."

"You can plays here if dat help. I makes dinner..."

"Haha, no." Toki shut him down.

He was not quite ready to play the new sonata in Skwisgaar's presence; it would be humiliating enough on Tuesday.

"Guess I use my own judgements, den." Skwisgaar said as Toki got up.    

Later that evening, when Toki tried to eat Murderface's spicy chili without spilling tomato sauce on his Synopsis Quattor Evangeliorum, he got another text message.

_From: Mr Skwigelf_

_Thanks for you help. Is better like you says._

Happiness at being appreciated lasted long enough to fuel his own playing when he finally got around to it.

 

*******

**Notes**

Piano concerto no. 1 by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uoR76XEVPY

Synopsis Quattor Evangeliorum – A book that compares the parallels and similarities between the four gospels by placing the Greek source texts next to each other. 


	5. Ciel! Dammi coraggio!

Sweating and with his books poking painfully in his back through his bag as he ran, Toki arrived at the conservatory three minutes late for his piano lesson. He should have minded the time, because Professor Fjordslorn tended to ramble once he got started on classic literature. It was always fascinating to hear, but he went on forever without actually going over the grammar. Today’s side-track into classical hero biographies had helped explain the structure of the New Testament a bit better, but had left him with no time to lose once he realised the lecture had officially been over for ten minutes before the students were dismissed. Running most of the way to the conservatory had regained him some time, but it was not enough.

Skwisgaar gave him a flat look over his paper cup of coffee as Toki stumbled into the classroom.

"I's sorries, I-" He stammered.

Skwisgaar dismissed his apology with a sneer that made cold sweat break out on Toki's back.

"You needs to apolgesize for thing way too often for my taste. Gets you shit together."

Toki took the remark in stride as he wiped the sweat out of his eyes and sat down behind the piano to rifle through his bag for what he had been studying. The Mozart sonata in C major was a delicate, light-hearted piece, and Toki had had trouble finding the right dynamic more than anything else.

"Haves you playeds yet, today?" Skwisgaar inquired.

"No, nots yet. I didn'ts have time before class."

"Den what's de points of comings here, huh? Now you gots to waste half you lessons warming up!"

"My fingers works just fine, thanks." Toki said, still breathing hard.

"Gets up earlier next times. You needs to stop beings satisfieds with half-assing stuff. Plays, den."

Three remarks from Skwisgaar was all it took to make his confidence crumble. His teacher was right, of course, about everything. He would just have to play this really well, and then maybe he could salvage some of this wreckage. If only his fingers would not shake so much.    

Skwisgaar stopped him when he managed to cram the first twenty seconds of the allegro in fifteen.

"What's you doings? I mean, is sort of interestings how you didn'ts miss a note, but Mozart amen't really supposed to sounds like speed metals."

Taking a steadying breath, Toki deliberately intoned the first chords slower, but his pounding heart made his fingers pick up so much speed that he got stuck and stumbled in places because he could not keep it up. Skwisgaar's hair swayed in the corner of his eye as he shook his head. His aloof disdain made Toki feel incredibly insecure, which only served to make his playing more rubbish as he got distracted by his negative emotions.

"Dis amen'ts music, Toki! You just playings all de notes real fast. Where am de feeling, de phrasings, you intention? Skips to de andante and calms down or I has you play scales for de rest of de hour."

Hunched over the keys, Toki could feel the onset of a panic attack constricting his lungs, but he powered through, every note he played driving home that this was the worst execution of this piece he had ever done.

"Dis totally sucks. Dids you evens prepares dis or ams you just seeings it for de forst times right now?" Skwisgaar's cold eyes bored into his.

"I knows I suck! You don'ts gots to tells me, I knows, alrights!" Toki yelled. "I dids practice it, but I's just too godsdamn-"

"Den does something abouts it, goes!"

Though panic and frustration were the worst possible feelings to tap into while playing this, Toki could not shake them, not with Skwisgaar looking on his fingers. He could not even meet his teacher's eye anymore when the last note of another horrible attempt died away. Skwisgaar opened his mouth for an undoubtedly snide remark, but Toki tuned him out, grabbed his bag and walked out, leaving the score where it stood.

He did not allow himself to cry until he sank down against a heating element in a niche of the hallway, shame washing over him in tidal waves as he buried his face in his hands. What was he doing here? He could not even last three lessons before his failures caught up with him. It had been a stupid idea to think he could have it all. Obeying his father's wishes and having a good thing for himself could not be achieved simultaneously. Quitting before he screwed up theology too was probably the best course of action. Church music would also have to go - he could not show his face in this building again after today.

A hand smoothing over his hair made him subconsciously lean into the touch.

Expecting to see Abigail, he looked up. He froze when he laid eyes upon Skwisgaar's sharp features, but did not immediately draw away from the hand on his head.

"Hej. Huh, you forgets dis." Skwisgaar said, clearing his throat uneasily while he held up the sonata.

"I don'ts think I needs it anymores."

"You can'ts tells me you knows it by heart."

Toki remained silent.

"Come, we still gots half an hours, we works it out." Skwisgaar said.

"I not works it out. I's quittings."

"Oh, come on, Mr Sensitives, you don'ts quits over cockings up one lessons." 

"I screws up every lesson."

"Most students does. Dey don'ts quits."

"What's it to you?"

"I thinks you's made of stronger stuffs dan dis. You comings?"

Skwisgaar held out his hand and clasped Toki's wrist to pull him to his feet.

"You'll sees dat once you finds de rights headspace for dis sonata it ams very suited to you abilities."

"That mights be the most hards parts about it..." Toki sighed.

"You can plays de notes, now hears dem befores you starts. Anticipates, looks aheads. Don'ts lets it catch you by sorprise."

Long fingers pulled Toki’s shoulders back as he sat down, forcing his spine to let go of the tension.

"Evens if you don'ts feel happies, you gots to allow Mozart to cheers you up."

 

*******

"Skwisgaar! Skwisgaar, guess what!"

The heavy soundproof door banged against the wall as a large shadow darkened the doorstep. Nathan was uncharacteristically excited when he barged into the rehearsal room on time for once. The singer must be dying to tell him something.

"You wons a millions billions-" Skwisgaar began randomly guessing, because Nathan would be unable to contain himself anyway.

"I'm going on a date with Abigail! She finally said yes! Oh god, this is awesome!" Nathan roared, raising his fist.

"Dat's great, Nathans."

After a string of crazy girlfriends someone as kind and balanced as Abigail would be good for him. If it worked out between them, of course. Skwisgaar hoped it did; they could be great together.

"I'm taking her to this concert on Thursday - what do I even wear?"

So Skwisgaar had been right to suspect that when he heard them talk about it last weekend.

"I don'ts know, dat pink polos looked pretties... No, it actuallies was terribles. Makes you look fat with horrible skins. Waits, _dis_ Thorsdays?"

"Yeah, why?" Nathan asked, oblivious.

"We was goings to de opera dis Thorsday, you dildo! Ring a bells?!" Skwisgaar reminded him with indignation.

"Oh damn, I forgot. Shit, dude, you're on your own!" Nathan laughed, not even sorry in the slightest.

"Now whats am I supposed to does with you tickets, huh? You know I gots no other fuckings friends. You just leaves me alone to fends off old ladies all evenings?"

"I don't know, ask your mom? I don't give a shit. I'm going out with Abigail!"

"My moms live 1500 kilometres away fors a reason." Skwisgaar bit at his euphoric friend.

"I can't help it you're such an asshole your mom doesn't even like you, Skwisgaar. Figure it out. Pick up a random slut."

"You suck. Worst friends evers."

"Only friend," Nathan corrected. "Hey, I did study that Sadko aria you told me to sing."

"Pffft. I bet you suck at dat, too. Well, let's hears it. Gives to me de scores."

 

*******

Skwisgaar settled into his bed with his book early that night in an attempt to ignore his nagging conscience. It was hardly the first time a student had left his classroom in tears, but he had never gone after them for fear they would not come back. Especially since Toki had his other studies to fall back on, that risk had been all too real this time. The kid really did not deserve the treatment Skwisgaar gave him, much less twice a week, but there was something about his intelligence and raw talent that put him off balance. Skwisgaar knew he could be great under the right circumstances, and he felt both threatened and fascinated by Toki in a way he could not rationalise even to himself.  

 Ragging on him so hard that he shut down was obviously not the way to teach him anything. Maybe some inspiration could give Toki a push in the right direction to give his piano studies more priority?

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Hej Toki you like Verdi?_

After reading a full chapter in his book, he got a text back.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Ja why you ask_

Puzzling with the sentence for a minute, he decided to not give Toki too much room to decline.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_We's seeings Rigoletto on Thursdays at Den Norske Opera. Wears a suit._

He had to wait a long time for a reply.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Why_

Why indeed? What reason could he give that did not sound weird?

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Don'ts need no reasons to go sees good music_

Just before he fell asleep his phone lit up again.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Ok_

Even Toki’s texts sounded butthurt, but he still had two days to get over it.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Text me you address I picks you up at 18.45_

There. At least this way he would not have to go alone.

 

*******

Toki asked Murderface if they could eat immediately after his housemate came out of work so they could talk before he had to go back to university. Aside from seeing Pickles in philosophy, Wednesdays were pretty lonely. The other theologians in his year were not exactly his kind of people - or at least not his denomination. That hardly mattered in normal friendships these days, but where Toki originated was a thorny issue for most of them, so he rarely talked to anyone in his classes. 

"Schorry," Murderface said while adding boiling water to the pasta, "but you're going to the opera with that dick Schkwisgaar?"

"Yeah, I guess." Toki shrugged. 

"That'sch gay. Opera isch really, really gay."

Going to the opera with an acquaintance - no, a teacher he wasn’t particularly friendly with - had no such connotation, did it? It was just mutual appreciation for art.  

"Likings other guys am gay. Opera ams greats music, you barbarians. I never seens one live, so I's not goings to pass up even if I gots to hangs out with him."

"Well, you gotta look at it thisch way, Toki. Over the lascht three weeksch you came home from school in tearsch..." Murderface counted on his fingers. "four times. Three of thosche were becausche of him, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, Hebrew's very frustratings, too." Toki deflected.

"I'm juscht trying to look out for you here, man. That guy'sch toxic."

"I appreskate that, Moidaface, but I's still goings."

"Scho what? You let that asschhole deschtroy you in classch but you pal around the rescht of the time? That'sch fucked up, dude!"

"I don'ts knows whats to tells you. I’ms just takings advantage of the offer."

Murderface let out a dramatic sigh.

"Fine, you schtubborn dildo."

"Moidaface!"

"Oh, juscht stop it with the holier than thou. Jeschusch! Anyway, where are you going tonight? Playing schome more piano?"

"No, I gots Hebrew tutorings." Toki said as he scraped his plate clean. "Thanks for dinners, I does the dishes laters."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Schtudy hard!"

 

*******

"God kveld, Toki. I'm glad you came to me for help," Professor Offdensen said when Toki entered his office. "I think that's a, ah, smart thing to do."

"Ja, so did my friend Pickles."

Offdensen raised his eyebrows and gave Toki a strange look over the rim of his glasses.

"Pickles? Well, I suppose he's right. What are we, ah, what are we working on tonight?"

"I've got a lot of trouble making the vocab stick and recognising the verbs, because they change all the time..."

"Very well." Offdensen opened his well-worn Biblia Hebraïca at 1 Samuel 18. He apparently knew the Hebrew curriculum by heart. "The thing about the, ah, verbs is that you've got to pay attention to the three consonants of the root, for now. So if you see a verb that has more, you take off the prefixes - which indicate the tempora among other things - and the suffixes - which indicate personal pronouns."

Offdensen scribbled a verb on a fresh sheet of paper with a pretty fountain pen. וַיֶּאֱהָ בֵ הו

"Now find the three root consonants."

"Oh, I've got one more question. Sometimes I’m left with two…?"

"That's a weak verb, and then you need to, ah, puzzle, but there are rules that make different consonants disappear, look..."

With the basic rules of verb conjugation refreshed, Offdensen let Toki take a crack at translating full verses. Having read the Bokmål translation once or twice, Toki’s mind was prone to supplying what he remembered rather than what he saw.

“And it came to pass that when he was finished speaking to Saul…that the soul of Jonathan was tied to the soul of David… eh something something… they struck up a close friendship.”

“No, Toki, we just determined וַיֶּאֱהָ בֵ הו. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know how to translate it.”

“And if I tell you the word means ‘to love’?”

“And… he is loving… him?”

“Right. So that second part of the sentence… look closely to what is says, forget the translation of Det Norske Bibelselskap.”

“And he - Jonathan - loved him as… his soul. His own soul. Oh, that doesn’t at all say what I recall.”

“Translators generally go to great lengths to downplay what happened between Jonathan and David according to the author of the Deuteronomistic history.”

“Really? Why?”

“The homo-romantic subtext - or text, rather, it’s there in plain sight - is difficult to reconcile with the prevalent dogmas, as you might well understand. It fits a lot more comfortably to make it into a, ah, “bromance” rather than acknowledge it a same-sex relationship.”

“I have a hard time tying that in with things like Genesis 19 and Leviticus 18. What makes you so sure?”

“I know my Hebrew - and my Literature of Ancient Israel.” He said, referring to one of the first year courses.

Toki pulled a sceptical face, and Offdensen looked at him challengingly over the rim of his glasses.

“You’ll find out soon enough if you bear with professor Haraldstad. I could break down my reasons for this opinion down in five pieces of evidence and lecture you about it for an hour, but perhaps this is something you need to see for yourself. Translate verse three for me, then.”

“And then Jonathan and David cut… a covenant - made a covenant - into love of him… something something… soul… Because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped off the robe which on him - his robe - and he is giving him… and he gave it to David, and the garments of him…” Toki trailed off. “Seriously?”

“You must understand that giving precious possessions was a common thing to do if you felt very, ah, close to someone.”

“But they just met!”

“Too cynical for, ah, love at first sight, already?” Offdensen’s eyes twinkled.

Soft, white skin under a Burzum jumper. He shoved that long buried memory down where it belonged, in the deepest recesses of his mind.

“No, it’s not that. Just… just one more thing that does not make sense with what I was taught.”

If that particular lesson was not true, why was it still etched into the skin of his back?

 

*******

Skwisgaar followed his phone’s GPS to a worn-out townhouse. There was a faded purple sofa that had been rained on one too many times in the front yard with a stack of beer crates next to it. The first storey had a confederate flag in front of its window, and the second storey window was framed by gloomy black sheets hanging askew from a curtain rod. He did not have to guess which room belonged to Toki and which to his housemate. When he rang the bell that was labelled 'Toki' in a childish script, he could follow the sounds of a descent down two sets of stairs. Before Toki jumped down the last couple of steps, the guy named Murderface opened the door. He gave Skwisgaar a foul look as he let him in.

"Moidaface, cans you helps me for a sec?"

Toki held up the ends of his tie. He watched intently as Murderface sloppily knotted it for him around his neck, and Skwisgaar covered up a smirk. The stark black suit Toki had on was well-fitting, but the cut was so old fashioned that it practically screamed Christian fundamentalist. Paired with his ragged hair it made for a quirky look. Closing the top button of his jacket, Toki unselfconsciously turned to him.

"Okay, I'ms readies. Leads the way."

During the thirty minute bus ride Toki hung his jacket over the back of a seat. It was warm and stuffy behind the Plexiglas windows, but it did not bother Skwisgaar as much.

"This amen'ts right..." Toki mumbled as he fiddled with the uneven ends of the tie.

"You friends am a very sloppies man. De tomato sauce in hims moustache shoulds have beens a warnings." Skwisgaar laughed. "You can'ts rely on anyones if you wants somethings done right."

"But I can'ts does it any betters."

"Lets me teach you." He said, reaching to undo the knot.

"Let's not goes downs that dusty roads."

Toki yanked the tie from his grip.

"Don'ts bes a baby. Whats could possibly goes wrong?"

"You're not a greats teacher, Skwisgaar. Then agains," Toki amended, "de sooner I gets used to that, the betters."

"Pfffft. Permits me to disagree."

Skwisgaar repeated the process of properly tying a tie a couple of times until Toki could do it himself.

"You's rudes for a religious extremist."

"Don'ts you know? They's the rudest. Maybe nots with language but with how they treats peoples they think inferior." Toki said conversationally.

"Ams you implyings I's unferiors to you?" Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow.

"Whats? No! My dad's beliefs don'ts make me a fundamentalist. I's just not takings any shits from you."

Toki raised his chin stubbornly at Skwisgaar's smirk. He had a strong jaw for a nineteen year old. Strong shoulders, too, in his white dress shirt.

"Is you goods right, I suppose - outsides the classrooms. Oh, this ams us."

The modern architecture of the opera house was a different sight from the 19th century building of the Kungliga Operan Skwisgaar had liked to visit in Stockholm, but he appreciated the stylized aesthetic nonetheless.

"Wowee," Toki said softly under his breath, staring with unabashed, child-like wonder.

"I think we still haves time for some coffees, let's goes."

Skwisgaar led him inside by his elbow, since his head swivelled in every direction but the one they were going to take in the details of the building.

"I gots to ask..." Toki sipped his scalding tea. "Why dids you takes me here?"

"You haves Nathans to thank for dat. Dat dildo cancels on me because he takings Abigails on a dates tonight. I gets it, though, he beens chasings her forevers."

"I thoughts they was already in a relatingship, to bes honest." Toki admitted.

"Maybes after tonights? Who knows."

A gong sounded to announce the time, and Skwisgaar led Toki to their seats close to the centre stage. He liked to see the singers' faces. So much work went into their acting, and he did not want to miss that part. Rather than take his seat, Toki leaned forward over the next row to peer into the orchestra pit.

"Why's they all down there, Skwisgaar?"

Skwisgaar rested his face in his palm. 

"Why you _thinks_ , Toki?"

"Ooh! Is too distracting to haves them on stage? And... the singer gots to sees the conductors, too?"

Well, at least he could provide the answer to that question himself.

"Sits down, you lilla dumbom," Skwisgaar ordered when he looked back up and got an eyeful of Toki's butt where he half dangled over the seats in front of them. Nothing like a suit to bring out a nice ass, but he really should not be thinking about teenaged students like that. "Haves you reads the stories?" He asked to distract both himself and Toki.

"Shoulds I have?"

"Dere's somethings to be saids for both. De Italians am hards to follow if you don'ts know the libretto, but dere's goings to be subtitles rights dere, probablies in Norsk," he explained as he pointed out the subtle display.

"Cools! Thats way I don't get spoilers." Toki's voice dropped to a whisper as the lights dimmed and the audience politely applauded. "Why's we clappings?"

"Toki, you unscultured swine. Ams de conductor."

The heavy velvet curtains opened right away during the overture.

"Wowee, Moidaface was rights, dis am really gay," Toki whispered as ballet dancers swept the stage.

Skwisgaar elbowed him in the side, but snorted despite himself. He was not into ballet either, and the way the male dancers' leggings pinched in all the wrong places was just a little embarrassing.

"Oh no, I cans sees that guy's junk," Toki quietly giggled, and Skwisgaar had to stifle a laugh.

Once he got sucked into the story, Toki refrained from speaking up again, sitting at the edge of his seat, mouth slightly agape in wonder at the great performance. The singers and orchestra were excellent, but the decor and costumes a little too modern and contrived for Skwisgaar's taste. Apparently the singer in the role of the Duke of Mantua was a favourite, because there was a lot of spontaneous applause after each of his arias. Personally, Skwisgaar favoured the fair soprano that sung Gilda with an effortless grace.

Toki sort of melted during the duets between Rigoletto and his daughter, a tender smile plastered all over his face, eyes flitting between the stage and the subtitles. It was not such a bad idea to bring him here. Nathan was just as critical a spectator as Skwisgaar, so they always ended up criticising and analysing every detail to death. Seeing the performance partly through Toki's eyes enhanced the experience exponentially for him.

"Whats- they can'ts stop heres!" Toki grabbed Skwisgaar's sleeve when the curtain closed and the lights went back on after Gilda's abduction.

Skwisgaar gave him a mysterious smile as he got up. He was not going to divulge any of the plot elements; he wanted to see how Toki took it in real time.

"Hey Skwisgaar!" A familiar nasal voice called from above as the exited the concert hall.

Dick Knubbler waved to catch his attention.

"How are you, babe?"

Skwisgaar gave a small wave back, unwilling to shout across the distance like a proletarian.

"Is my agents," he explained to Toki.

"Cools glasses," Toki commented about Knubblers pink hippie spectacles. 

Knubbler waved them over once they were clear of the doors.

"Hey, who's your date? I didn't know you were seeing someone!" Knubbler said loudly enough for Toki to overhear.

The kid's eyes widened minutely.

"Knubbler, this ams my _student_ Toki. He play de piano also." Skwisgaar gave Toki a little shove so they could shake hands.

Generally, he did not care if people knew he considered everyone with a pulse fair game, but he hoped the kid did not have any deeply instilled religious homophobia, or things might get awkward.

Toki prompted Knubbler about his opinion on the opera so far, and Skwisgaar was content to listen to them talk while he knocked back a glass of wine. The conversation eventually landed on his concerts, and Knubbler proudly regaled Toki with all the details Skwisgaar had not bothered to mention. Toki looked suitably impressed by the time they took their seats again.

A vice-like grip on Skwisgaar's arm, along with the tight line of his shoulders as he leaned forward in his seat conveyed Toki's investment in the story when Rigoletto discovered his mortally wounded daughter. As she died and her father let out a heart wrenching wail of grief, he sunk against the back rest with glittering eyes. 

"Criesbabies," Skwisgaar whispered softly as he squeezed Toki's shoulders in a one-armed hug.

"I hates you," Toki replied without real venomosity as he scrubbed his eyes.

They were still deep in conversation when Toki had to get off the bus, so Skwisgaar walked him home. Lingering at the bottom of the steps of the townhouse, he was surprised when Toki invited him inside for coffee.  It got stranger when Toki took the coffee he brewed up to his room, and Skwisgaar followed him up the stairs, trying not to stare at his ass again. Ironically, this was beginning to look like how dates usually ended despite his adamant denial in front of Knubbler.

Toki's room was a mix of mismatched furniture, dark and gloomy in the twilight of a late summer night. A set of posters with blueprints and cross-sections of submarines and airplanes decorated the yellowing wallpaper where the numerous bookcases and shelves left it bare, giving the whole space a distinctly boyish feel.

"Whats with de airplanes?" Skwisgaar asked.

Somehow he would have expected... well, not that.

"I wanteds to studies Aerospace engineerings, originally."

"No ways. Seriouslies?"

"Whats, you thinks I couldn't does it?" Toki challenged him. "I was pretties goods at maths and physics!"

"Woulds has expecteds you to wants to bes a musicians above all else." Skwisgaar rebutted.

"Didn't believes I woulds be cut out for that."

"So whats with you and Theologies, then?"

"Well, my dad's a reverend, and its woulds make him happies if I follows in his footsteps."

His dad again. Of course. Skwisgaar searched for a subtle way to find out more about Toki's relationship with his father.

"Am he prouds you doesings dis for him?"

That question made Toki think.

"Nots yet. Maybes once I gets my diploma." He said hopefully.

"So where does faith plays into dis?"

"My dads-"

"Meants for you." Skwisgaar interrupted.

Toki opened his mouth and closed it again, considering.

"Tells me if I'ms beings rude."

"Is okay. I guess- I guess I'ms just goings the ways of the least resistance. Faith am my dad's thing, music ams mine. I'ms not sures whats I can believes anymores between whats I was tolds and whats I experience since I came here."

Thinking back on his earlier assessment of Toki, Skwisgaar decided on forced, and maybe a little brainwashed, but not too fucked in the head. Toki was obviously a product of his strict and conservative upbringing paired with a dislike for conflict. What kind of father begrudged his son finding out where his happiness truly lay? Better to not have a father at all, than a tyrant. At least Skwisgaar's mother never cared enough to stand in the way of his ambitions.

"Why didn'ts you just goes: ‘Fucks you, dads, I'ms goings to bes an engineer’?" Skwisgaar asked.

"With whats moneys?"

"Scholarships and a jobs. How you think I pays for my ecucations? Nots by holdings up my hands to my moms."

"Nevers really thought of it that ways," Toki said pensively.

"Whats he says abouts you gettings into de consorvatories? Shorelies he am proud of dat?"

Admission into one the classical music programmes was enough to get most parents bragging.

"He... don'ts knows abouts a lot of things I does in Oslo."

For all his superficial obedience, Toki sure did have a rebellious streak.

"You afraids of whats he might says?" 

"I'ms just lookings out for myself. I'ms selfish like that."

"Also for you friends, rights? Was pretty cools how you look out for Pickle."

"Where I cans." Toki smiled. "Thankfully, I don'ts gots many friends. I alreadies has enough on my plates." 

Skwisgaar hesitated to ask, but something about Toki had sunk its claws in him. He could not keep out of it. Studying the books and notepads piling on his desk and bulging out of his bag made his question all the more pressing.

"You keepings it together, Toki?"

It was not impossible, Skwisgaar knew from experience, but had he ever longed for someone to ask him that during the rough and lonely years of his studies.

"I'ms managing." Toki said bravely.

The brief and unexpected desire to wrap himself around Toki and call him baby in an entirely non-taunting way occupied Skwisgaar's mind with confusion the entire walk back home.

 

*******

**Notes**

Ciel! Dammi coraggio! - Heavens, give me courage! Aria from Rigoletto by Giuseppe Verdi. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sb2Zrq5ffug  From 1.35 minutes on.


	6. Zu ihm, des' tiefe Klagen

‘Boardgames’ said the new WhatsApp group he had been added to earlier this week. Skwisgaar had not paid the messages that went back and forth a whole lot of mind, but curiosity and need for company had driven him out of his house on Friday night, towards the big concrete flat Pickles lived in.

He was late, having spent every free minute between work and his piano curfew with his fingers on the keys, but he could join a second round of games fairly quickly after observing the tail end of the first. The gathering of intelligent, strategic, exact and creative minds made for a fascinating set of opponents that stoked his competitiveness to a roaring bonfire and made him more eager to play than he would have expected.

A wary alliance with Nathan made quick work of defeating Pickles, who was a little too stoned to realise what was going to hit him until it was too late. Toki’s mind had been far afield during the explanation of the rules, so it came a no surprise that he got taken out second. He lingered at the table, lost in thought, but a bout of triumphant laughter from Abigail pulled him from his daydreaming after a while. Scooting closer to Skwisgaar, Toki peered into his cards with a little more interest now that he did not have to keep active track of the game for his own benefit.

Leaning in as Skwisgaar kept his eyes on Murderface’s next move, Toki lowered his voice to a conspirational whisper.

“You sees whats he ams tryings, rights?”

“Ja, I’ms pretties much fucked. Sorries. Abouts de swearings, I mean. I, huh…ja.”

“Hm,” Toki absently acknowledged his apology. “Lets me sees what cards you haves in your left hands.”

Skwisgaar subtly angled the cards towards Toki, unsure how his opponents felt about him getting a second opinion about his moves, but Toki grabbed his wrist to move them in his line of sight. Smooth strands of hair slipped from behind Toki’s ear, releasing a faintly feminine scent.

“Hej Tokis… you smells like a ladies,” Skwisgaar teased. “Does you goes shoppings for hairs products with Abigails and tells her you problems?”

“ _You_ smells like a lady, Skwisgaar.” Toki retorted without taking his eyes off the cards.

“No, I don-”

“Åh! You sees this rights here?”

Toki pointed at an obscure card Skwisgaar had not paid any attention to because he wasn’t sure what the English on it meant exactly.

“Huh…”

When Murderface made his attack on Skwisgaar, Toki blocked it with a triumphant grin.

Before Skwisgaar had the change to thank him for his help, the others began protesting Toki’s involvement.

“Fuck off, Toki, you’re out of the game! Schtop helping Schkwischgaar, it’sch not fair!”

“Yeah, come on, Toki, let him figure it out for himself.”

“Screws you all off. I’ms goings to gets a drinks.” Toki said with an annoyed look, and he left Skwisgaar alone for the rest of the game.

 Ignorance of the loopholes in the rules and his bad command of English meant that Skwisgaar was eventually obliterated by Abigail and forced to lay down his cards. It was just her, Murderface and Nathan in play now.

Skwisgaar remained at the rickety table to root for her and watch how the game played out, but tendrils of pot smoke and quiet conversation from the couch underneath the loft bed gradually drew his attention elsewhere.

“…git me wrong. Ye kin still have a meaningful relationship with Gahd even if ye take Scripture with a grain o’ salt. If ye even want that, I mean.”

“But how?” Toki replied, sounding exasperated. “Where I comes from, is all or nothings, and even givings it all is hardlies ever enough.”

Now that he paid attention, Skwisgaar could clearly see the cracks forming in Toki’s seemingly blind faith. He was convinced that letting go of his fundamentalist upbringing could only be a good thing for Toki, but the visible turmoil made him wish he could help him somehow, or tell him life was perfectly alright relying on no one but yourself.

“Depends on how ye see Gahd. Is he a guy who punishes people fer their mistakes or forgives them? Is salvation sahmthin’ ye have teh werk for yer entire life with no certainty you’ll attain it, or is theht what he sent his son teh die for?”

“I… thats am a real hards question, Pickle.” Toki said with an anguished look. “I don’ts knows anymore.”

“That’s alright, ye know. Ye kin take yer time figurin’ it oot. It’s pahssible teh live a good life if ye stahp letting yer life be dictated by rules made fer nomadic desert-dwellers three thousand years ago…”

Toki’s lost puppy eyes pleaded for someone to provide guidance.

“Ye gahtta look fer a universal good that ye kin get behind. Things that apply teh everyone.”

“Yeah, but wheres?”

“Everywhere. As long as it’s nahn-exclusive. I hehppen teh like Aristotle’s ethics a laht, but ye could even stick teh the New Testament. It’s pritty much all there, and it’s naht complicated.”

“But why does other peoples sticks to…” Toki gestured helplessly.

“Backwards crehp? Because change is hard. Admitting yew were wrahng is even harder. There’s a feelin’ of safety in traditions that order the world in manageable lil’ chunks for ye.”

Toki let out a heartfelt sigh.

“Is scaries, to relies on you own judgements. So much rooms for errors and hurtings people.”

“That’s because yew were always taught yew couldn’t trust yerself with that. And ye know what? Yer gahnna cock sahm things up one way or ‘nother. The most important thing is that ye learn from it.” Pickles gave Toki a half-smile before taking a long drag from his joint. “So… the Robot really made ye think, huh? He has that effect on people.”

“Mostly he mades me translate a loads of Hebrew, but yeah. Whats he mades me read kinds of,” Toki lowered his voice, “hits close to homes.”

Skwisgaar only became aware that he was hanging over the back of his chair shamelessly listening in on the private conversation when Toki met his eyes and stared at him flatly for a second. He shrugged apologetically, and Toki turned back to his conversation.

“Like… yer relationship with yer dad?” Pickles guessed.

“In a ways.”

“What did he make ye read?” 

“1 Samuel 18 through 20.”

“My knowledge ain’t that specific.”

“Can I trusts you with a secrets, Pickle?”

“Yeah, dood.”

“Can we talks in private, then?”

“Fahllow me.”

Pickles let Toki pull him up off the couch by his forearms.

Tendrils of possessiveness impaired Skwisgaar’s breathing like the pot-smoke before as he watched Pickles’ bedroom door shut behind them. He knew they were still a long way from friends, but he wished he knew how to talk to Toki like Pickles did. Skwisgaar was so infinitely curious about him; what moved him, where he was coming from, and where he was going.  

He wanted Toki to trust _him_ with his secrets, and he wanted to keep them safe.

A huge cultural difference divided them as surely as their divergent personalities, but the need to overcome it occupied Skwisgaar’s thoughts as he fetched the table of gamers a round of beers.

The conversation left him feeling confused, ignorant and a little lost where to begin. Not being raised into any sort of faith created a gap in his understanding of cultural heritage and its effects on people’s lives.

Obsessing about music for most his life had not done his life experience any favours, but, he thought as he slammed the beers on the table a little harder than necessary, at least music was a universal language - one he spoke fluently. Perhaps he could begin with that.

 

*******

"Tokis," said a low voice near his ear.

He opened his eyes to the sight of endless waves of pale blond hair hanging over him and was confused for a moment. Lifting his head made his neck muscles protest, and there was a thin page stuck to his face. Right, he had been revising during the lunch break before his last class. How long had he been out?

Toki was not used to seeing Skwisgaar's indulgent half-smile in this setting, but technically class had not started if the smell of grilled cheese and tomato soup were any indication. Carefully peeling Shof'tim 3:12 from his cheek, Toki sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

"Hei Skwisgaar." He yawned.

"I sees revisions am goings well." Skwisgaar remarked sarcastically. "You gots a lots of exams next week?"

"Three. Histories of Christianity and two deads as doornails languages." Toki sighed. "The banes of mine existence."

"I thoughts music theories was de banes of you existence." He gave a sly grin.

"Yeah, but there amen'ts exam next week so I's safe for now."

"You's never safes in my class." Skwisgaar teased.

Toki let out a groan, not dignifying the taunt with a further response. It was true; music theory was by far his worst subject, simultaneously made better and worse by the fact that Skwisgaar taught it. His teacher could go from happily palling around with him before class started to completely levelling his confidence to the ground at the flip of a switch. The only way to deal with that had been to compartmentalise those two sides of Skwisgaar. Toki liked him, all things considered.

They saw each other frequently in the company of their mutual friends these days, and he was a completely different person in private. Toki appreciated his dorky humour, the way they teamed up during board games and the way he usually kept Toki’s dislike for horror and gore in mind when they picked films. Knowing that that was the real Skwisgaar it was easier not to cling to the humiliation he dished out during lessons. He did that to everyone.

"So, uh, you gots times for piano lesson next weeks?" Skwisgaar inquired. "I mean, I don'ts knows when you exams am scheduled..."

"Thursdays and Fridays am de languages, and de other one ams on..." Toki flipped through his schedule. "Tuesdays."

"Oh." Skwisgaar looked a little disappointed in him.

"Is only at three, though." Toki said quickly. "I can be here at ones, no problems."

"You shores?"

"Yeah, I gots this. Still needs to plays to keeps sane."

That answer rewarded him with a genuine smile: not the tight-lipped sarcastic one that Skwisgaar used sometimes, but a soft, unguarded one with a hint of big, regular teeth. It was a sight for sore eyes. None of his friends were generally very forthcoming with positive emotion, nor was anyone else in his life, for that matter. Even his mother rarely smiled, usually only when they were alone.

"Goods." Skwisgaar said with approval. "Three weeks without woulds be way too long."

The week after the exams was the autumn break at both institutions, and Toki would have to go up north to report back to his parents. He did not really want to think about that, yet.

"What's you goings to do on your break, Skwisgaar?"

"Uhm," Skwisgaar chewed thoughtfully. "tours planning, sees concerts, maybe finally gets some times to plays guitars."

"Oh, wowee, you gots to shows Toki some time!"

If Skwisgaar played guitar even a tenth as well as he played piano it would definitely be something Toki wanted to hear.

"Wells, you knows where I lives." Skwisgaar said with his eyes fixed on his sandwich.

The mindless doodles Toki did while they spoke nearly obscured his translation of Judges when he looked back to his paper.

"Too bads I gots to go to stupids Lillehammer all weeks. I's lucky if I'ms back in Oslo by Sunday."

Perhaps he would be allowed to leave after church on Saturday. That was the only perk of being a Seventh Day Adventist: once the Sabbath was over, he still had half his weekend left.

"I'ms home on Sunday."

Skwisgaar's spoon hovered in front of his half-open mouth as if he suddenly remembered something, but resumed its trajectory after a minute twitch of his eyebrow.

"I text you if I'ms goings to make it." Toki promised.

"Ok."

Diverting his attention back to Ehud and Eglon - a brutal and gory tale previously unknown to him - Toki leafed through his Brown Driver Briggs to try to find the root of something he was not sure was a noun or a verb by sheer dumb luck. A rustle on the other side of the table made him glance up to Skwisgaar, who held a page marker between his teeth as he flipped a page in a busted old paperback called Dragonquest. Only the sound of pages being turned broke the silence for the next fifteen minutes, until a 'K-k-k-yeahyeah' startled them both. Toki let out a quiet giggle as a proverbial storm cloud gathered over Skwisgaar's head at Leonard's appearance, and he quickly traded his Hebrew for his solfege syllabus.

Skwisgaar shook his head at him.

"You can puts dat away. We's doesing triads listenings exorcisms, ja?"

With a sigh of relief, Toki realised he was actually good at that. Looking at the clock it seemed as if there was a big chance Ronke was not going to show up to the lesson. If he did not know any better, he would have thought the universe was out to spare him today.

*******

_From: Nathan Explosion_

_At your house in 5. We're going out. Wear pants._

Skwisgaar wondered if he had time for a shower before Nathan arrived, but decided to wait until his friend was actually there. It would not do to leave him standing at the door in this weather. Rain dripped heavily from the foliage visible through his windows, and the 6 degree temperature would make being wet very uncomfortable. He was glad he had done his supply run before the downpour started, allowing him to stay indoors and play while the rain beat down on the evergreen vines and trees of his garden. 

It took much longer than five minutes for Nathan to show up, as usual. His friend had braved the rain without a coat, but when Skwisgaar raised his eyebrows at him in questioning, he merely cast his eyes skywards and muttered: "Brutal."

"Take off you boots, Nathans." Skwisgaar had to remind him when he poised to barge into his hallway.

Foreigners always neglected to do that, and Skwisgaar hated it when people - well, Nathan, really - tracked mud or snow through his house. He already smelled like wet dog, the least he could do was to contain that wetness at the doormat.

"Always with that uptight Swedishness, ugh."

"Amen'ts uptight, is just common sense in de north. I don'ts like cleanings but I likes clean, so humours me."

"Whatever. You got any food?" Nathan asked as he disappeared into the kitchen

"Already hads dinner, but there ams chips-"

Ripping foil indicated that Nathan had already found it. Leaning against the doorpost, Skwisgaar watched him hop up on the counter and shove it into his mouth by the handfuls.

"Whats am de plans?"

Skwisgaar was accommodating where palling around was concerned, but he did like to know what he was singing up for up front. 

"I thought we could go to Pickles' first," Nathan sent crumbs flying as he spoke, "get drunk, and then go to a bar or a club or something."

The mention of Pickles made Skwisgaar perk up.

"You think Toki is ams goings to be there?"

"No idea, you talk to him more than I do. Why don't you text him or something?" Nathan shrugged.

"He gots dose exam next weeks, so probablies not." Skwisgaar thought aloud.

Somehow that thought made him less eager to go at all. Paired with the heavy rain, staying indoors was a much more appealing prospect.

"Where am Abigails, anyways?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Her parents are in town, so I'm, uh, kind of hiding. I mean, I met them yesterday, and they're nice, but you know how I feel about families."

"Ja, shores. Hej, why don'ts we stays in and watch horrors movies or some shits like dat? I'ms nots really in de moods to goes out."

"Dude, we haven't been out in ages! When was the last time you got shitfaced, or hooked up...?" Nathan protested.

At least two months, but he did not miss it. The benefits of either activity just did not balance out the consequences of feeling and playing like shit the next day.

"Needs I reminds you that you has dress rehearsals for Parsifal tomorrow evenings? Dumbs dildos. You amen'ts suppose to drinks at all dis week. Dries you hair before you sits on my couch!" Skwisgaar barked as he tossed him a kitchen towel.

"What the hell possessed you to get a fucking white couch, anyway? That's like the worst idea ever." Nathan grumbled for the hundredth time, and then laughed. "No wonder Toki wanted to sit on the floor when we had that Game of Thrones marathon last week."

Skwisgaar smiled to himself. He thought it was pretty funny how Toki tiptoed around his pristine furniture, unlike Nathan.

"What's up with you and Toki, anyway? Didn't you tell me to stay away from him when we just met him because he was trouble or something? And now it's Toki this and Toki that."

"Huh, ja, I thoughts he was weirds in de beginnings, but torns out he ams a goods kid after all. I likes havings more dan one friends, screws you." Skwisgaar replied airily. "You needs me to gets you a feedings-trough with dat chips?"

Nathan grinned around the bag he was upending in his mouth to get to the last crumbs, blessedly distracted.

Skwisgaar was not entirely sure he was ready for anyone to know about his epic crush; not even Nathan, who had entrusted him with his feelings for Abigail since the beginning. This was different than being in love with someone who was of similar age and standing, though - his feelings for Toki were entirely inappropriate. It was probably best to just ride out the high he got from being around him in silence until it passed. Toki _was_ trouble, in a way, just not to anyone else.

There was not a single good way to resolve this situation except hoping that he would get over it, and at the same time he could not stand the thought of doing so.

Despite his best efforts he could not stop trying to claim Toki as his, jealously guarding their time alone and making tons of excuses to see him whenever possible. Skwisgaar did not even want to get over him - he wanted everything Toki would be willing to give and then some.

Having Toki sit at his feet all evening in the company of their friends had been torture in the best way imaginable. Toki's arm occasionally brushing against his shin as he shifted had kept Skwisgaar's heart-rate elevated to the point where he was afraid Abigail or Pickles on either side of him might hear it. Their relative positions had given Skwisgaar ample opportunity to stare, and if anyone had asked him what the episodes had been about, he would not have been able to answer in any detail. Instead he had mapped the constellations of freckles and birthmarks visible in Toki's neck and on the backs of his arms, which was infinitely more relevant to his interests.

"Put on a fucking movie, then," Nathan ordered, pulling him from his thoughts. "I'll go get some more chips! And beer!"

Despite Skwisgaar's earlier admonition, Nathan got drunk enough to fall asleep halfway through 'Drag me to hell'. Sleeping _was_ actually a better idea than watching the rest of the film, which was disgusting in the extreme.

"Nathans, if you goings to crash here, does it in de spare bedroom. And text you girlsfriend where you am." Skwisgaar said as he nudged him with his elbow.

"Control freak," Nathan mumbled sleepily, closing his eyes again.

Snapping a picture with his phone, Skwisgaar located his last conversation with Abigail in his WhatsApp and sent the image.

_Nathans am here don'ts worries about him._

A second nudge as he turned off the TV yielded a tired groan, but this time Nathan dragged his ass upstairs obediently. When Skwisgaar followed five minutes later, Nathan was out like a light on top of the covers. Closing the door to block the snores that would undoubtedly start in a short while, Skwisgaar quietly went about his grooming. A message from Abigail came back while he brushed his teeth.

_Thanks. Bet he wouldn't have thought about letting me know. Charming pic ;)_

Once alone in the dark, Skwisgaar allowed his mind to wander. His nights, though lonelier than he would like, offered a small reprieve from his pining. Made it worse, too, in a way, because exploring all the things he longed to do to Toki only made him hyper aware of what he was missing. Though his supply of fantasies was unlimited, there was only so much of that he could stand while wishing for the real thing. Convincingly mimicking the touches of someone else was tantalizing at best. Perhaps he _should_ go and get laid again some time, get Toki out of his system. Perhaps he should just tell Toki, damn everything else to hell, and beg him to fuck him.

Ignoring the impossible premises of such an encounter, in his mind Toki would crouch over him on his bed, inexperienced but eager. Reaching out to pet through his smooth hair, Skwisgaar would draw him down for a heated kiss, legs falling open to accommodate narrow hips and glorious intrusion. He wondered what sounds Toki would make, what his touch would feel like on his face, in his hair, on his chest, what kind of face Toki would pull as he came inside him.

Superficially cleaning his chest with a towel, Skwisgaar curled around his spare pillow and let sleep take him.

*******

While Toki had gotten over most of his anxiety during the piano lessons since he stopped taking criticism personally, it was Skwisgaar who was on edge when Toki stepped into the rehearsal room on Tuesday afternoon. He knew he would not be seeing Toki for the better part of two weeks when the hour was up, since his Hebrew exam clashed with music theory on Friday. Toki's two-week absence seemed like an unbridgeable gap from where he stood now. Seeing his student twice weekly and sometimes once or twice outside of school had become something he invariably counted on an looked forward to. If he was honest to himself, his feelings for Toki had gotten completely out of hand.

He was so caught up in staring when Toki played the presto agitato of Beethoven's sonata in C sharp minor that he completely forgot to pay attention for some constructive criticism. Toki attacked the piece with a ferocity that was very well suited to it. His hands flew across the keys with high speed as well as intense feeling, his brow drawn in concentration.

Skwisgaar let out a controlled breath. What he would not give to have Toki in his bed tonight.

"Skwisgaar?" Toki said quietly over the heavy silence.

Casting about for something to say, he looked away from Toki's pale lips.

"Dids you also prepares de adagio sostenuto? I woulds likes to hears you plays that." He stalled.

Toki nodded and rearranged the copied score he had stuck together with tiny pieces of duct tape.

"Dis was goods, by de way. You gots a real talents for fast arpeggios."

"Wowee, thanks you."

The pleased blush that crept across the bridge of Toki's nose made Skwisgaar want to take his face in his hands and kiss every inch of skin.

"Maybes... you coulds bring out de sforzando notes a bit more, buts de preskisions was spot on."

"Gettings de pedals right was brutal, though. Hads a lots of trouble timings it."

"Well, if you coulds already does it, there woulds be no points in learnings dis sonata. Go, plays me de rest."

Toki ploughed through the adagio with a little too much variation in dynamics, but instead of stopping him, Skwisgaar decided to see if he could correct himself on the fly.

"You right pinkie is comings in too strong - a bits more... understated. Ja, likes dat. Thinks hesitant, almost, while you left hand wait patiently. Don'ts just keeps rammings out de chords at de same tempo. See, how dat sounds?"

"Ja, is differentsk." Toki agreed. "More subtles."

As Toki continued the sonata, Skwisgaar lost himself in a fantasy of sweeping the ends of Toki's hair aside and kissing his exposed neck while he played. He felt like he was starving for the opportunity to lavish his affection on Toki, knowing full well that that opportunity might never come. What were the chances that Toki was queer, let alone comfortable with being queer, considering his background? His quiet groan made Toki trail off.

"Whats?" Toki asked carefully.

"Sorry. I's just..." Head over heels? Going mad with longing? "kinds of hungries." It was not strictly a lie.

"Oh!" Toki laughed. "I thoughts it was somethings I dids."

Skwisgaar did not even notice the next student showing up until Toki packed his bag, his arms cording with the heavy tomes it contained.

"Goods luck on you exams, Toki. Hope Lillehammer amen'ts too dreadfuls." He forced himself to say.

"Thanks. I think I wills manage with de exams. Lillehammer... wells." Toki shrugged.

Skwisgaar had to bite his tongue to not blurt out 'text me when you're bored' or something equally dumb. 

"Sees you in two weeks, Skwisgaar!"

Toki shouldered his bag and walked out.

"Yeah. Sees you." He sighed bleakly at the closing door.

"You need to tell him, Skwisgaar." Abigail cut through his thoughts when she went through her bag for her scores.

"Tells who whats?" He replied with guarded suspicion.

"Don't give me that bullshit. You've been making cow eyes at Toki for weeks, and I should know, because Nathan has been giving me that same look for over a year."

Apparently, he had not been hiding his infatuation as well as he had thought.

"And den whats, huh? Either thing gets real awkwards between us and he won'ts want nothings to does with me anymores, or he know and don'ts feels de same so nothing happen anyway."

"He likes you a lot." Abigail rebutted.

"I'ms his teachers, for fuck's sakes! And in case you havent's notice, almost ten years older. And an assholes to boots. I can'ts wins- I can't does dat to him."

"Fine, suit yourself." Abigail said, rolling her eyes.

"Please, don'ts tells Tokis." He implored.

"I won't. However, I may or may not mercilessly tease you like you teased us." Abigail giggled.

"Fucks you, Abigails."

"Shut up and start playing."

 

*******

In the train to Lillehammer Toki had over two hours to contemplate in how many ways he might have screwed up his Hebrew exam earlier that afternoon. It had consisted of equal parts translating, grammar and syntax analysis pertaining to a passage from the texts they had gone over in class in the past weeks. Ignorance of the meaning of a number of words in the translation did not necessarily mean he had gotten the grammar wrong, but he was very doubtful about the answers he had given in the syntax section.

The anxiety that had grasped him by the throat when he laid eyes on the questions had easily rivalled his worst moments in music theory, but blessedly he did not have to sit through that, today. That was about the only perk he could think of, besides if he had actually passed the test. If not... there would be a resit in December. Still, he could not afford to let the work pile up like that. He had gotten too used to having spare time every now and then to hang out with his friends.

Thinking of them like that, his _friends_ , made Toki giddy with happiness despite his exam stress. When he had come to Oslo eight weeks ago, he had had no one but a weird housemate he was not invested in, and now he actually had a whole group of friends. He had never felt better than the times they gathered in Pickles' room or Skwisgaar's house to talk and laugh over movies or the occasional board game. The moments where Pickles quietly organised his drugs while Toki practised in the Lutheran church or the meals he never had to ask Murderface to cook for him were very precious to him - as well as the way Abigail and Nathan treated him like a baby brother. His happy memories might just be enough to sustain him through a long week with his parents.

The arrival at Lillehammer station came sooner than he had anticipated, and seeing his mother waiting for him was equally unexpected. He hopped onto the platform and took her in his arms.

"Mamma! Jeg er glad for å se deg."

For a little while, at least, he was happy to see his mother after so long.

"Velkommen hjem, Toki." Kissing him on the cheek, she ran a hand through his hair. "You're taller every time I see you."

"Still not as tall as father, I think." he shrugged. "Or some of my friends."

As a mix of Anja's short posture and Aslaug's taller frame, Toki would probably not attain anything like the height Nathan and Skwisgaar stood at, both over 1.90 meters.

"Your friends? Why don't you tell me something about them? I've never heard you talk about your friends before." Anja asked as they walked to the car.

Foregoing telling her he had not had any since Ronke, Toki wondered what he could safely divulge.

"Pickles is a philosophy student over at the faculty; William - you know about him - is the notary who lives in the room below mine, eh... Abigail and Nathan are singing students - opera and stuff - and Skwisgaar is my t-" he trailed off helplessly.

"Your what, Toki?"

"My... best friend," he fumbled, unable to touch on anything to do with music for fear he would betray himself, "although he's sort of mean sometimes."

Close save, Anja bought it.  

"Lots of foreign names. Are they all international students?" She asked.

"Everyone except Skwisgaar is from the United States. No wait, Abigail is originally from Surinam, I think. Don’t pin me on that."

"Birds of a feather, I suppose." Anja said. "How did you meet them?"

"I met Pickles at the bookstore, and he knew Nathan, who is... friends with Abigail and Skwisgaar."

Best not mention Nathan and Abigail were involved yet unmarried - living in sin most days.

"That's lovely, dear."

Toki had missed his mother, if not the stifling environment of their home life. His new friends had given him such a different perspective regarding his life's choices and personality that he was a changed man, but his mother was still his mother. She wore her waist length hair down today, two small black combs pulling it away from her face so it hung straight down the back of her conservative dress suit. He wanted to say it looked pretty, but he knew he was not supposed to notice such frivolous things. Their faith had made him walk on eggshells for his entire life, and he still felt sad that expressing love and joy about people and simple things was discouraged so much in their community.

"Shall I cut your hair for you when we get home? It's getting rather long."

"No thank you, mother. I like it long."

If he had any say in it, he was going to grow it as long as Skwisgaar and Nathan.

"What if I just trim it?" Anja insisted.

"I'd really rather not."

"Alright, if you're certain."

Challenging his mother's will had never been easy for him. He could not have done that before this summer, but his increasing sense of individuality made it a little more natural.

Anja was a careful driver, so it took a while for them to ascend the roads up into the mountains, but Toki did not mind. The longer it took for him to be walled in by mountain peaks capped with eternal snow, the better. At least the Fjords of Oslo gave him a sense of freedom where they opened up onto the seas, though it might not be just the landscapes themselves that inspired these feelings in him. 

"How have you been, mamma?" Toki asked.

"It's been very quiet around the house, what with your father working most days. It takes some adjusting to the fact that you live so far away for the greater part of the year. I guess I got used to having you around again during the summer."

What he had been doing this summer could hardly be called living in comparison to how he did things in Oslo. At home, his parents governed his every move; when he woke, when he ate, what chores he did, what he read - hell, he even had to meticulously plan jacking off so that it would leave no evidence. Anything but work, study and worship was not allowed by default. It was going to be a rough week, but if he made it through he had another six or so weeks of relative freedom to look forward to.

Already hungry when they got out of the car, Toki resigned himself to waiting another hour before his father would come back and dinner would be served. He should have brought some food to go on the train. Suddenly, his phone chirped with a message alert. His mother looked at him sternly, holding out her hand.

"Mamma, vær så snill. Can I just see who it is?"

"I'll have a look for you. Now hand it over, Toki." Her tone brooked no argument.

Handing his phone over quickly because he did not want to look suspicious, Toki made a mental note to locate it later and shut it down before incriminating messages from Pickles or Murderface started coming in.

"Who is Mr Skwigelf?"

Right, he still had Skwisgaar's number saved under his last name.

"A teacher." Toki chanced.

"He asks how your Hebrew exam went. That's nice of him, I suppose." Anja sounded mildly surprised.

"Our faculty is very involved, being small and all." That was not exactly how matters stood, but in a sense it was true. "Can I send a reply?"

"I suppose you can, if it's for school."

Anja gave him back his phone.

_From: Mr Skwigelf_

_Hej Toki, I hopes you exam wents well todays._

He typed a quick, innocuous reply.

_To: Mr Skwigelf_

_Hei Skwisgaar, ams not sure, I dids my best though. Thanks you for askings. I gots to hand in my phone now :(  Hopes you has a nice weeks._

Quickly shutting down his phone gave him a small sense of relief when Anja took it from him. He squared his shoulders and followed his mother into the dark house.

 

*******

**Notes**

Zu ihm, dess' tiefe Klagen ich törig staunend einst vernahm, dem nun ich Heil zu bringen mich auserlesen wähnen darf. - To him, whose deep laments I once heard in foolish wonder, to bring him salvation I presume to think myself ordained. Aria from Parsifal by Richard Wagner. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjpdWxt8jIEFrom 7.59 minutes on.

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Mamma! Jeg er glad for å se deg." - Mama! I’m glad to see you.

"Velkommen hjem, Toki." - Welcome home, Toki.

"Mamma, vær så snill.” - Please, mama.


	7. O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden

"... all I'm saying is, just ask him along next time. It'd be fun. Like a double date." Abigail smirked while she leaned in over the armrest between their seats.

On her other side, Nathan was too busy admiring the way her tailored grey pantsuit hugged her curves to weigh in on the conversation.

"You haves no regards fors my sofferings." Skwisgaar griped. "Why we needs to talk abouts dis all de times, huh? I alreadies thinks about it too much as it ams."

"Oh, stop it. You guys had a great time at the opera last time, right?" Abigail suggested like _she_ was the voice of reason here. "So it'd be perfectly alright to ask him to come with you again. Maybe you don't even need to make it explicit that it's a date. See what happens."

He wanted to follow her advice, but there were just too many unknown variables for this to end up being anything but a complicated mess.

"Ja, like dat kids will knows whats hit him."

"More like what's hitting _on_ him." Abigail giggled. "Seriously, you need to stop fussing so much about the possible consequences. I'm sure you can find a way if it's meant to work out."

"Verys funnies. I gots three words for you: Seventh Days Adventists."

"What, think he can't be gay because of that sect he grew up in?"

"I'ms not gays either." He corrected. "But, ja, whats if he think it ams sin or some shits like dat? You knows how much unfluence hims parents has on him."

"Irrelevant. Skwisgaar, if you forget about being an asshole for five minutes you can charm the pants off a nun."

"Woulds has a betters chance if he weres a Catholic. Whats if I hooks up with him and hims families cast him out?"

"You need to stop freaking out over all this bullshit and just talk to Toki about it." Abigail countered.

"I _can'ts_."

"Just don't give up entirely on the idea, okay? Persevere. It worked for Nathan." She said.

"Hey, what are you guys gossiping about?" Nathan butted in when he heard his name.

"Skwisgaar's completely pathetic crush on-"

Clapping a hand over Abigail's mouth was probably not going to help him at this point. Nathan gave him a warning glare to unhand his girlfriend, and when he did, Abigail finished he sentence anyway.

"-Toki."

"Toki." Nathan repeated flatly. "Toki? You've got a boner for _Toki_?"

"Will you keeps it down!" Skwisgaar commanded, swivelling his head around to see if anyone around them was listening in.

"What, it's true?!"

"Ja. Now cans we change de subjects?"

"Guess I would've expected is the other way around, if at all. You're usually the one who gets crushed on." Nathan said pensively.

"No, it's pretty hilarious." Abigail giggled. "If you look closely you can pinpoint the exact moments when he's mooning over him."

"Spares me."

"Seriously, though, you wanna fuck Toki?" Nathan leaned over Abigail's seat to frown at him. "Not sure if that kid is even aware that sex is a thing that exists. You gotta be careful about using him like one of your sluts."

"I don'ts wants to just fuck him!" Skwisgaar hissed under his breath. "I wants to... watch him make his stupids courseworks and fuckings kiss him in de mornings and finds his stuffs all over my house..."

"I told you, completely pathetic." Abigail whispered a little too loudly behind her hand.

"Dear god, he's far gone."

"He's starting to sound like you, Nathan."

"Hey! I was never _that_ pathetic."

"Sorry, but it wasn't me who said 'our kids'..."

Was it really that weird that after years of sleeping around and random hook-ups he actually wanted to connect with someone? This week, missing the usual hour before music theory where Toki would do his translations in his classroom while he ate or studied music had driven home how much he appreciated that sort of companionship. Since he had left Sweden Skwisgaar had constantly been on his own, and while that was convenient and orderly and quiet, these days he longed for someone to share his space and his thoughts with. A very particular someone, who would bring more music and warmth and quirky personality traits to his cold, empty house.

"Look, he's doing it right now..."

Snorts of laughter pulled him from his reverie as the conductor of the Oslo Filharmonien made his entrance on stage.

"I seriously hates you guys." Skwisgaar hissed.

"Ugh, Toki better give it up soon so you can go back to normal." Nathan's low rumble cut through the sound of applause all around them.

"I don't think Toki's the problem here..."

"Shuts de _fuck_ up, you twos."

 

*******

"Toki, I'm going out for some groceries, do you want to come along?"

Anja stuck her head around the door of Toki's gloomy bedchamber and walked in, resting a hand on his back. Her long hair fell forward over his shoulder when she bent to see what he was doing. He had decided to start on the Hebrew texts that were going to come up in the next exam at the end of January, because it was an insurmountable pile of work. Immersing himself in his studies helped pass the time a bit better around his parents' quiet and boring house, and he had the idea that his parents went easier on him with the chores if he was already busy.

"Nei takk, mor, I'm kind of in the middle of a translation." He replied, showing her his work on Ecclesiastes. "Unless you need the help, of course."

"It's alright, I can manage without you if you're studying. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Toki waited with bated breath until he heard the front door close and the car pull away. There was a number of things he needed that he was not supposed to need, and in an hour he could achieve most of them if he was smart and stealthy about it. Then again, since he had declined to help his mother, he also needed to have some progress to show for it. If he rushed a decent amount of translation, he would have to see how much time he had left and prioritise his needs accordingly.

There was a stack of firewood waiting for him to chop this afternoon, but he could not do it on his mother's vegetable soup alone. He needed some carbs to keep him going. After five days in Lillehammer, he would consider homicide for one of Murderface's sandwiches, or even better, his chili or pasta. Stealing some bread seemed like the lesser evil, so he would, if he could. Then he needed to send Skwisgaar a message about their sort of appointment, because his mother had agreed to bring him to the station first thing on Sunday morning. Skwisgaar liked knowing things beforehand, and it would not do to only text him when he got his phone back. Locating his phone might prove a challenge, but he would just have to risk it. He also needed to get off, because if he ignored his dick any longer he was going to end up soiling his sheets and having a bigger problem to contend with than stealth.

Merely thinking about the prospect made him squirm uncomfortably with his emerging hard on. Adjusting himself in his pants, all thoughts of studying first went right out the window. This was not going to take long, anyway. Padding down the creaky floorboards of the hallway in his socks, he hoarded some tissues in his pockets before returning to his room. He liked lying down when he jacked off, but the risk of falling asleep afterwards made him sit back at his desk. Yanking open the zipper of his pants, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep silent as he freed his cock from his shorts. The tight ache of neglect gave way to warm, tense pleasure as he rubbed himself, mind carefully blank with nothing but release in mind, ears trained for the slightest sound that would mean interruption. But the house was completely quiet, and the disturbance he feared did not come.

Throwing back his head he gave up fighting the memories he had only just begun to reconcile himself with, letting the recollection of the infatuation, the thrill and the arousal flood his mind.

Pale sunlight through the hair that curtained his face. Hungry kisses after an eternity of shyness. Grinding down on the body underneath him, khakis against black jeans. Muffled gasps against his shoulder. 

The concentration required to not make a mess lessened the experience, and the relief he felt was dampened by the bitter aftertaste of punishment, scorn and endless feuding. Some memories deserved to stay buried. 

Flushing the evidence, he snuck down to the kitchen to carefully prepare and eat a sandwich over the counter so he would not have to do any washing up afterwards. He wiped the crumbs into the sink, and washing them away took care of covering up that particular transgression.

Basic physical needs satisfied for now, Toki decided to look for his phone. The various cupboards and drawers on the ground floor yielded nothing, which meant that either Anja carried it in her purse, leaving him unable to get to it at all, or it was in his parents' bedroom. Snooping around in their nightstands made Toki feel like a right criminal, but closing his hand around his phone made it worth his while.

_To: Mr Skwigelf_

_hei skwisgaar am we still on for sundays i gonna b back in oslo in the aftrenoon_

Ignoring his errors, he sent the message quickly, hoping that he might see a reply before his self-allotted time of five minutes was up. Thankfully, Skwisgaar was quick to respond.

_From: Mr Skwigelf_

_Hej Toki, nice to hears from you. Dids you steals you phone or some shits like dat? How ams you doings? Lookings forward to seeings you on Sundays._

Talking to Skwisgaar, even if it was only for a minute, made his day so much better. If only he had time to send the others something, too. Scrambling to answer all the questions, he typed up another message.

_To: Mr Skwigelf_

_ja i dids sends me straihgts to hell. ams okay kind of bored n hungries tho. how abouts you?_

_From: Mr Skwigelf_

_Haha poor things we's will takes cares of that when you gets here. I'ms ok Nathans beings a pain as usual._

And with that, his time was up. Switching off his phone, he took care to put it back in the exact position he found it. Surrounded himself with his books in his room, he piled them high to dam the reminiscence of bad experiences he could never seem to escape here.

 

*******

Toki had been excused from the second church service that Saturday in favour of his studies, and had spent the afternoon reading up on Church Law on the sofa. His mother read Scripture next to him, a pot of tea warming over a tea light on the table in front of her. The week had passed fairly quickly while he kept busy, but Toki could not wait to return to Oslo and sleep in his own bed. With any luck he would even get to spend time with his friends before classes resumed.

As soon as Aslaug returned home Toki instinctively knew something was wrong. It was in the restrained way his father hung up his hat and coat, the sound of his heavy steps in the hallway and the particular way the front door closed with a firm click. Looking to his mother, he saw that she felt it too. She tensed, then straightened her shoulders and waited. In the past she would try to distract his father from what invoked his ire, but lack of effectiveness of that strategy made her more resigned about waiting until he spoke.

His father paced in front of the hearth for a while, the oppressive silence stretching. Toki's heart thudded heavily in his throat. He was most likely to blame for his father's mood, but not knowing exactly how he had been compromised left him unable to anticipate.

"I heard an interesting rumour from a parishioner today..." Aslaug began ominously, his back turned to them as he stared into the fireplace.

Neither Toki nor Anja said anything. Even if they knew what he was talking about, it was best not to interrupt him.

"Imagine my surprise when old Mrs Snogge tells me that her grandson and my boy ended up in the same class again. At the Musikkhøgskole in Oslo."

Anja's eyes widened slightly as she silently asked Toki for confirmation. Toki inclined his head, fear paralysing his limbs where he sat. 

"Care to explain yourself, Toki?"

"It's... a minor program the university offers in collaboration with the conservatory. I study piano there, father." Toki confessed. "Ronke happened to be in the same music theory class. I had no idea, and we don't even talk, I swear."

Aslaug turned to size him up.

"And for what reason did you decide not tell me and your mother this? Speak up, boy!"

"I did not think you would approve, father."

He told the truth that would damn him immediately. There was no amount of lying that could get him out of this predicament unscathed.   

"Right you are, Toki. We do _not_ approve. We let you go to Oslo to study Theology, not to revisit your sinful behaviour of the past and consort with those godless artistic types."

"I don’t! It’s just music! It does not interfere with Theology, father." Toki tried.

Aslaug ignored that remark.

"Come here." He barked.

Toki slowly got up and approached him.

"How do you think it made me look when I did not even know what my son was up to in front of my parishioners? Well?!"

The quiet rage storming in his father's grey eyes took the heart right out of him.

"I don't know, father." Toki avoided answering _like an idiot_ or _out of touch_.

"It made me look like a fool! It made me look like I can't control my own son!"

Aslaug's rising voice paralleled his rising temper.

"I'm sorry, father."

Deescalating was the only thing he could try now.

"No, you're not." His father spat.

Aslaug's cold eyes pierced right through Toki's superficial obedience.

"You’ve always been a slippery little serpent, only behaving as long as we have our eye on you. Well, guess what, boy? If you cannot heed me from afar, you will just have to remain under my supervision. I’ll be damned before you shame this family again with your disgraceful behaviour."

Toki backed up a step, shaking his head. If he had to remain in Lillehammer, he would lose everything he held dear. He simply could not stand the idea of living without freedom and friends ever again.

"Father, you can't keep me here - you can't be serious about that! I’ve done nothing wrong." Toki's throat clenched up on his words.

"You’re a sinner and a liar, and you're never going back to Oslo again except when we bring back your things!" Aslaug roared.

With nothing left to lose, Toki snapped and railed back at his father.

"Fuck you! I'm going back to Oslo whether you like it or not! You don't own me! This isn’t fucking 900 BC anymore! I'm not your goddamned serf-"

The blow to his head came out of nowhere. Staggering back, he reeled with the impact. His father was still a tough man despite his age, and the force of his strike filled Toki's head with white noise.

"Aslaug-" His mother began.

"Anja, forsvinn."

"The boy is just-"

"I said _leave_ , Anja."

"Aslaug, don't hurt him!" Anja shrilled as his father grabbed him by the hair and yanked him forward.

"For every word I hear from your mouth I'm going to strike him again, so you had better do as I say if you don't want me to hurt him."

His mother's quiet sobs as she closed the door and slid down against it on the other side heightened Toki's fear as Aslaug kept him unbalanced by pulling his hair.

"God truly has it in for me for landing me with a child like you. Lord!" His father invoked. "you test me, but I will bring my son back into the fold in Your Name!"

Holding Toki's face inches from his, Aslaug growled: "You will obey me."

Pulling back his right arm, he punched Toki in the face so hard that they both felt something give. Pain bloomed across his cheekbone, and again across his eye as a hard fist connected with his eye socket. Unable to bring out any more than a grunt of pain, Toki let go of his reluctance to risk his hands and threw up his arms to shield his face, blocking the next blow.

"Take your punishment like a man, spawn of Satan!"

Aslaug booted him in the backs of his knees, forcing him to kneel on the rough flagstone. Gripping Toki's wrists with one hand, he yanked his belt free.

“No, _no.._.” Toki pleaded.

Not this.

Aslaug brought the belt down on Toki's back.

Anja's muffled wail filtered through the wooden door as the leather bit into Toki's skin. The shock was worse than the burn, at first, but he could not help but cry out in mindless fear when it continued to rain lashes.

"You lying, deceitful wretch! Is this how you repay our goodness? The mercy we have shown you the first time?!"

"Father, please!" Toki choked out.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, you miserable hellion? You are going to be so sorry you ever lied to me!"

"I am - father, I am sorry! Just - stop! Please!" He begged. "Oh god, please stop..."

After a small eternity, his father's arm tired and he ceased. Toki could not move beyond bracing himself on hands and knees when his arms were released.

"Anja, take your worthless son out of my sight." Aslaug commanded as he stalked away and left him on the floor.

Moments later his mother knelt next to him, silent tears running down her cheeks as she took in his face.

"Can you walk, child?" She whispered.

Nodding, Toki let her help him up.

"Let's go to your room." She said as she took his hand, rubbing her thumb along the back of it in reassurance.

Upstairs, Anja checked the hallway before closing the door of Toki's bedroom behind them.

"Listen carefully, Toki." Her shaky voice steadied as she spoke quietly. "I'm going to come for you tonight, and I need you to be ready with your things. When Aslaug sleeps, I'm going to bring you to Lillehammer so you can take the night train to Oslo."

"What about you, mamma? Come with me, please."

"I can't, Toki."

"Why not? Together-"

"I can't leave your father, but you need to get out while you can."

The thought of his delicate mother going against the will of someone who was capable of breaking her like a twig was what finally made Toki's tears fall. She would bear the consequences of his escape.

"Mamma, no, father will-"

"Toki, I can handle your father." Anja cut him off. "Please do as I say. Pack your things, dress warmly, be ready. Quickly now."

Thirteen minutes past midnight his door quietly opened, and he sat up in bed. The wait had been agony with nothing to distract him from the pain of his injuries.

"It's time," Anja mouthed. "Wait for me by the door."

Weighing the risk of making the stairs creak with his heavy bags in hand or having to make the trip twice, Toki decided on treading very lightly around the creaky steps. He knew which spots to avoid from years of sneaking around. He made it downstairs without incident, and watched his mother navigate the stairs with the same practised stealth. Closing the door behind them with utmost care, they made a dash for the car.

"Won't he hear the engine?" Toki asked with adrenaline spiking in his bloodstream.

"Too late." Anja said grimly, starting the car. "Here, take your phone."

He turned it on and pocketed it. Their heavy breathing punctuated the relative silence inside the car.

"Mamma, I'm sorry I brought this upon you."

"Just promise me you will think of me once in a while. And when this is all over, you will have to play for me some time."

Anja's smile was sad.

"I will come for you. Once I've got my life together, I-"

Dropping him off as closely to the station as possible, Anja visibly swallowed her grief. Toki leaned over to kiss her without regard for his busted face.

"Go now, Toki. Wear your hood up. Remember to withdraw all your money when you get to Oslo, because your father may freeze your account. Be safe, and call me when you can."

"I will. Thank you, mamma. I love you."

"I love you, too, my child," Anja said through her tears.

"Vær forsiktig," he whispered as he shut the car door.

Arriving at the platform left him lost. There was no night train from Lillehammer. The earliest would leave for Oslo on 7.31 on Sunday. Terrified his father would find him while he waited like a sitting duck, Toki kept moving until dawn brought in the first train. His pounding head, his guilt and fear kept him awake during the long journey, but by the time he staggered up the steps of the townhouse he was ready to fall over.

"Moidaface," he croaked, knocking on his housemate's door.

Hopefully William would have some painkillers for him. Haemorrhaging around his eyes and cheekbones put an agonising pressure on the injured tissue, and it was hard to think straight with the pain shooting through his left cheek under a cut that split wide with the swelling. He had no idea what state his back was in, but coagulated blood on the t-shirt he had changed out of before going to bed the night before told him his skin had broken in more than one place.

Murderface did not answer, and when Toki tried the door it was locked. He was not at home. Toki did not want to go to the hospital for fear he would have to explain himself, but he feared permanent damage to his face more. Dumping his bag in his room, he pocketed his phone and health insurance card and got on a bus.

 

*******

Unable to sleep in from the sheer anticipation of seeing Toki today, Skwisgaar had been up since dawn, flitting between slightly excessive grooming, reading and playing music as soon as decency allowed it. Absently eating lunch over his book around noon, he froze when he heard a text message alert from the general direction of the couch. Retrieving his phone he missed a beat when he saw it was from Toki. He had better not fucking cancel on him.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_hei skwisgaar i'ms not sure i's goings to make it. i'ms kind of stuck rights now_

Of course something had to come up. It had been two weeks, for fuck’s sake. Cursing his luck, he typed a reply.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Whats wrong you needs me to come picks you up somewhere?_

He would do just about anything to get to see him, if only for a little while.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_no is just a long wait_

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Where ams you then_

Did his train break down somewhere, or what?

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_at the er is kind of busy here_

At the emergency room? He was not hurt, was he?

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_What happened?!_

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_i gots in a fight_

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Where ams you Toki?_

He asked again to see if there was anything he could do. The idea that Toki was hurt wound his nerves like badly tuned strings.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_ullevål sykehus_

“Skit,” Skwisgaar cursed to himself.

He fucking hated hospitals.

Throwing on his coat, Skwisgaar stepped out into the light rain, mind churning the entire bus ride to the university hospital.

If he had not all but memorised Toki's limited wardrobe, Skwisgaar might not even have recognised him at first glance. He sat unobtrusively in a corner of the busy waiting room, the hood of a blue zip hoodie concealing most of his face, but those worn khakis could only belong to one person.

"Toki?"

Toki looked up out of reflex, and Skwisgaar felt the blood drain from his face at the sight. Both his eyes were black, the left side of his face swollen and purple, and the open cut on his cheekbone was oozing.

"Hei, Skwisgaar." He murmured with downcast eyes. "You shoulds not has come."

"Whats, and leaves you to fends for youself? I don'ts thinks so. Who dids this to you?" Skwisgaar asked urgently, crouching down to his level.

"I don'ts know." Toki lied.

"Toki," Skwisgaar said, laying a hand on his arm, "please tells to me what happens."

"I gots in a fights."

It was too convenient. Even if he was a bit on the aggressive side, Toki did not get into bar brawls on Saturday nights like his peers.

He had still been at his parents' house last night.

"Dis don'ts looks like no fights to me."

Skwisgaar turned Toki's unmarked hands over in his own, but Toki said nothing.

"Looks more like batteries. Who dids dis to you?"

Bloodshot blue eyes pleaded for him not to ask.

"Toki. Ams it your dads?"

He gave a small nod. Before Skwisgaar could say anything else they were interrupted.

"Toki Wartooth? Legen vil se deg nå."

"Wants me to waits here?" Skwisgaar asked.

"No, is alrights."

Skwisgaar followed him into the clinic, where a young man introduced himself as doctor Ohlin and sat Toki down to examine his face.

"Fortelle meg hva som skjedde."

"I got beat up yesterd- åhh!"

Toki cried out as the doctor gently pressed his cheekbone.

"Yesterday? How many hours has it been?"

"About... twenty."

Skwisgaar hated every second of watching Toki wince under the doctor's hands. A familiar protectiveness flared up, and the force of his rage was unprecedented. It threw him off balance.

"Well, this does not feel like it's broken, nor does your nose. Have you taken any pain medication yet?" Doctor Ohlin asked.

"No."

"I'm going to prescribe you some. Have you got any more injuries other than the ones on your face?"

"Perhaps on my back, I couldn't see."

Toki gestured across the expanse of his back.

"Take off your top, then, I'll have a look."

Skwisgaar swore softly as Toki revealed a mass of black and blue contusions crisscrossed by a handful of lacerations. The rage swelling inside him turned into a desire for murder.

"What caused this?" The doctor asked, unable to keep his voice from being affected.

"Eh, a leather belt." Toki mumbled, eyes downcast in shame.

"Do you mind if I... document this for educational purposes?" Professional deformation turned the doctor's initial horror into fascination.

"That's alright."

Doctor Ohlin snapped a series of pictures of Toki's back with his iPhone.

"Unfortunately I can't suture those cuts anymore because they're too old. They might scar."

The doctor sat down behind his desk and typed up a quick report.

"Are you going to press charges?" He fixed Toki with a look.

"No."

"If you change your mind, I will testify for you."

"Thank you, doctor." Toki said numbly.

"I've sent your prescription to the apothecary downstairs; you can pick it up in a minute."  

"Tusen takk. God dag, doktor."

Toki avoided eye contact during the short wait at the apothecary. He pried a couple of painkillers from the package as soon as the pharmacist handed them over, and Skwisgaar fetched him a cup of water.

"Does you wants me to takes you homes?" Skwisgaar offered.

Toki bit his lip.

"I don'ts know. He know where I lives." He said quietly. "I wasn't alloweds to leave."

The forlorn slump in Toki’s shoulders was painful to see.

"Is goings to be okays." Skwisgaar said lamely.

His attempt at reassuring Toki seemed hopelessly inadequate, but he had never gotten the hang of comforting people.

Steeling his nerves, he took Toki’s hand. 

“You nots alone in dis, you hears me?"

When Toki's hand tightened around his in answer, Skwisgaar drew him in, pouring all the comfort he could summon into an embrace.

"Let's goes to my place, den. We figures something out."

 

*******

**Notes**

O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden, voll Schmerz und voller Hohn, O Haupt, zum Spott gebunden. - O head covered in blood and wounds, full of pain and scorn, o head bound for mockery. Choral from the Matthäuspassion by Johann Sebastian Bach. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FY_JgY4OM2Q

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Vær forsiktig" - Be careful.

Ullevål Sykehus - Ullevål Hospital. Oslo’s university hospital.

“Legen vil se deg nå." - The doctor will see you now.

"Fortelle meg hva som skjedde." - Tell me what has happened.


	8. Da tempeste il legno infranto

Toki made them take a detour to the bank on the way to Skwisgaar's place and withdrew as much cash as his daily limit allowed. In a way Skwisgaar was unsurprised to learn that Toki's dad had access everything, from his finances to his room in the townhouse, but mostly the idea freaked him the fuck out. As soon as Aslaug withdrew his support, Toki would effectively be broke and homeless. Since he was unwilling to stay where his dad could find him anyhow, he technically already was.  

After tea and sandwiches that he could barely chew, Toki looked ready to pass out.

"You needs to gets some sleep, Tokis." Skwisgaar told him. "We worries about all dat other craps later. Follows me."

Leading him up the stairs, Skwisgaar showed Toki to the spare bedroom.

"De sheets mights smells a bit like Nathans 'cause I didn'ts wash dem yet, but you cans crash here."

"Thanks you, Skwisgaar." Toki said tiredly.

Stripping off his hoodie and his threadbare khakis, Toki went through his pockets in search of something. Skwisgaar felt like garbage when he failed to resist raking his eyes along Toki's compact limbs. Dark blond hair dusted finely structured muscle, his calves equally wide as his broad feet. Those ill-fitting clothes made him look skinnier than he was.

"You needs anything else?" Skwisgaar asked, tearing his eyes away.

"A hairs tie."

"I keeps a bunch in de bathroom. Hang on."

Fetching one from his stash he handed it to Toki, who drew his hair back into a small bun. It might have looked cute if his face had not been completely destroyed. What a shame.

"Sleeps tight. I'ms downstairs if you needs me. If you needs anything, don't hesitates, alrights?"

"Alrights." Toki echoed, crawling underneath the covers.

Closing the door behind him, Skwisgaar walked downstairs, thoughts going in panicky circles. This was incredibly messy. His involvement in Toki's life just crossed all boundaries of what was appropriate for a teacher and student, and that was not even counting his feelings for Toki. In any other circumstance he would be happy to let Toki move in with him never to leave, but this was not right, and he was not ready. He needed help figuring this out.

_To: Nathan Explosion, Abigail Remeltintdrinc, Pickles, Murderface_

_We needs to talk about Toki, is urgent. Comes when you cans, don'ts rings de doorbell._

Over the course of the next half hour their friends trickled in. Pickles was last to arrive, and Skwisgaar sat him down with the rest to fill him in.

Pressing a mug of coffee in the redhead’s hands, Skwisgaar resumed his pacing.

"Whet's goin' ahn, chief?"

His light tone did not quite mask his worry.

"Here's de things: Toki am asleep upstairs because-"

Nathan and Abigail stifled snorts.

"Dudes, cans we please be serious fors a moments.” Skwisgaar pleaded with badly suppressed agitation.

"Alright, git ahn with it."

"So hims dads..." Skwisgaar took a breath, trying to dispel the image of Toki's disfigured face. "wanteds to keeps Tokis in Lillehammer for lyings about goings to de conservatories. He didn’ts wants to stays, and when he refused to hims dads beats him up real bads. Hims moms helps him escape to Oslo in de middles of de nights. When I founds him in de ER-”

“Take it easy, sweetie,” Abigail said softly as he tried to find the words. 

He started his sentence over.

“Tokis says dere ams a big chance hims dad will tries to takes him back homes by force or by cuttings him off. I won’ts let dat asshole lays another fingers on him, but I coulds use your helps. I gots a hard time thinkings straight."

Skwisgaar sat down on the bench behind his piano and let his right hand run through every scale imaginable while a pensive silence descended over his grim friends.

"That religiousch freak hasch a key to our housche, so I could try to get the locksch changed, but that'sch not going to happen tonight. Scho Toki needsch to lay low schomewhere until I can put a different lock on hisch door." Murderface said.

"He needs his stuff for studying and all that. His books and clothes. We need to go get that for him, like, as soon as possible." Nathan said. "I mean, it's not even that far to Lillehammer, that guy could be here any time. If he takes Toki's stuff it's just as problematic."

"I kin talk teh Ahffdensen tehmorrow - thet's his mentor and the dean of theahlogy. Clue him in ahn the situation."

"Yeah, I think it's really important that we make sure he can keep studying." Abigail cut in. "He needs to feel secure enough to concentrate on getting his degree, because once he drops out of university who knows where he might end up."

"I'll go get my van. Skwisgaar, Murderface, be ready to leave when I come back. Grab some bags and shit we can cram his stuff into." Nathan pulled on his boots.

“So where’s we goings to puts him up, den?” Skwisgaar called after Nathan.

“You’ve got the space and he’s already here.”

Skwisgaar made an unhappy noise.

“I mean, I’d offer, but I’m naht sure my place is a great ‘nvironment fer ‘im.”

They were right of course, so Skwisgaar bowed his head in acquiescence.

"I'll stay here in case he wakes up." Abigail offered.

"Yeuh, me too. We kin cook sahm dinner fer everyone later."

Abigail got up and beckoned Skwisgaar from where he was still running through his scales.

"Can I talk to you for a second, sweetie?"

"Shores."

In the privacy of the kitchen, she turned to him.

"This is messed up."

"Pfffft, tells me about it."

"Forget everything I said. As long as he stays with you-"

"I can'ts tries anything, I knows."

"If he sleeps with you because he feels the need to repay you or something like that..."

"I _knows_ , Abigails. As if I needs another reasons to feels like a garbage cans over dis."

"Just so we're clear. Hey, I think that's Nathan's car, go pack your stuff."

Skwisgaar walked up the stairs as quietly as possible, but when he entered the landing the bedroom door opened and Toki stuck his dishevelled head into the hallway.

"Dids I just hear Abigails?" He asked sleepily.

"Ja, everyones am here. We goings to gets you stuff just in case... "

"...my dads get that idea? Good thinkings." Toki absently scratched his arm. "Whats if he am already there, though?" His eyes widened at the thought.

"Permissions to morder him where he stand?" Skwisgaar asked darkly.

"Huh," Toki huffed. "Thats would solve a lot, but I don'ts wants you to bes a murderer on my account."

"Nathans and Moidaface wants a piece of you dad as well…"

"Huh. Don'ts really kills my dads." Toki yawned.

"We won'ts. Anythings we shouldn'ts forgets?"

Skwisgaar kept his eyes trained on Toki's face, fighting the siren call of bare legs and fitted boxer briefs.

"My scores. I keeps them in a black file folders. Shoulds be on my desk."

"Alrights. Moidaface am going to change you lock when he cans so you can goes back safely when you wants."

"Better waits with that until I figures out whats to pays my rents with." Toki said.

Somewhere outside a car honked.

"Hangs in dere. Tries to gets some more sleeps. We all goings to eats together laters."

"Be sures to wakes me for that."

"Ja. I betters go."

 

*******

Cannibal Corpse pounded through Nathan's van as they made the short trip from Skwisgaar's house. No one felt the need to say anything, and even the music did a piss poor job of distracting him, loud though it was. He was torn between fear Toki’s father might have beaten them to it and a savage desire for a confrontation with that brute.

There was a nondescript station wagon with an open trunk parked in front of the town house when Nathan pulled up to the curb behind it. Without saying a word, Skwisgaar hopped out of the car and stormed inside through the open door. As he looked around the hallway, a tall, stately older man in a hat crossed the first floor landing, carrying a box of books. That bastard was not wasting any time to make Toki's life as miserable as possible.

"Aslaug Wartooth?" Skwisgaar called.

A superior scowl fixed on him from above.

"Hvem er du? Vaktmesteren?"

Skwisgaar made a mental note to learn proper Norwegian sometime soon; that had probably been meant as an insult, but he had no choice but to let it slide.

"You son's piano teacher. I'd like to has a quick words with you."

He schooled himself to polite calm, heart thundering behind his ribs, as Aslaug descended to the ground floor.

"They will just let anyone teach these days," Toki's father sneered, taking in Skwisgaar's muddy boots and ponytail.

"I happens to be de best at whats I does, but I didn'ts come here to justifies myself to you." Skwisgaar wrapped his trademark aloofness around himself like armour.

"I see where my son got that attitude I had to beat out of him yesterday, but I don't really have the time to listen to your sob story."

He was every bit as inexorable as Skwisgaar had imagined him to be.

"You's makings a grave mistakes by treatings you sons like he less than human. He ams a greats students and a greats porson, and you's going to miss out on all dat for de rest of you life by doesing whats you does." Taking the high road seemed like a better idea with a man like this. "Whats use am makings you kid afraid of you so he won'ts ever want to sees you again? All because of some religions you was born into by chance?"

"Are you quite finished?" Aslaug said dismissively, trying to move past him.

"Nots quite. You can gives dat box to Toki's friends on you way out, because he needs dat."

"No, he won't, because he'll be in the gutter soon enough if he doesn't return home."

"Is whats you thinks. As I saids, he a greats kids, and hims friends are happies to takes cares of him where you fails to."

"Get out of my way." Aslaug said through clenched teeth.

"One more things..."

Stepping out, he put his full weight behind elbowing Toki's father in the face with all the pent up rage that had been building since he laid eyes on Toki in the ER that afternoon.

"If I evers sees you ugly face arounds these parts agains I wills morder you, understood?!" He screamed as he followed Aslaug's trajectory down to the floor.

"Du jävla barbar! Have you even seen Toki?! Did you even dare look at what you've done?!" Skwisgaar railed.

Aslaug got up stiffly, holding a bleeding nose.

"You think you're going to heaven for crap like this? Well, you better hope they've got Bibles in jail, cause I'm going to make sure you'll get locked up for a long fucking time!"

"Skwisgaar, that's enough." The distinct ping from Nathan's phone camera signified it was time to calm down. "Murderface, make sure that guy doesn't drive off before we get all of Toki's stuff from his car."

"With pleaschure." Murderface said grimly, blocking Aslaug's escape route.

Nathan pushed Skwisgaar ahead of him to raid Aslaug's car of anything that belonged to Toki. There were six boxes in the trunk, mostly books on theology. After transferring them to the van, Skwisgaar thought of something. Dialling quickly, he hoped that Toki's phone wasn't on silent. A soft rain dampened his shirt as he waited for Toki to pick up.

"Is Toki," said a scratchy voice.

"Ams me. You dads am here, mights be a goods time to check up on you moms."

"I wills!" Toki sounded immediately alert. "Thanks, Skwis."

Back inside the house Nathan and Murderface still cornered Toki's father. Nathan heaped some more threats on the ones Skwisgaar had uttered earlier. When the others spotted him, they decided it was time to get rid of Aslaug.

"Get out of here. We never wanna schee you again, you ugly idiot." Murderface spat, herding him through the door. "Hand over your key while you're at it, creep."

Wrenching it off his keychain, Aslaug dropped it where he stood and crossed the front yard to his car. Once he had disappeared from sight, Skwisgaar continued up to Toki's room. Nathan assigned himself the duty of carrying the heavy, plentiful books downstairs while Murderface emptied Toki's closet into a duffel bag and Skwisgaar looked for anything else that might be important to him. The sheet music was easy, but the rest… He decided on throwing the rainbow coloured blanket that looked as though his mother might have crocheted in the box he was holding, as well as a stuffed animal that sat on the corner of his bed. They stripped his room of all but the furniture, loaded everything and headed back. Dumping the mountain of books in Skwisgaar's glorified storage room that doubled as a study and Toki's personal items in the spare bedroom, they made quick work of emptying Nathan's van.

Toki had relocated downstairs and sat cross-legged at Abigail's feet while she applied some sort of ointment to his face. The swelling seemed to have gone down a little since he had slept. He underwent her gentle touch like a cat basking in the sun, spiking irrational jealousy in Skwisgaar's gut. When Pickles served dinner, they mostly chewed in thoughtful silence until Nathan started passing his phone around.

"Hey Toki, you wanna see Skwisgaar flip out and punch your dad in the face?" He called across the table.

"Nathans, cans you please not..." Skwisgaar pleaded, mortified. "That ams really nots..."

Toki's eyes widened and he reached for the device.

"Ohoho, there he goes!" Pickles looked over Toki's shoulder as he played the video.

There was a crash and some unintelligible screaming that switched from English to Swedish halfway, and Skwisgaar buried his face in his hands as Pickles burst into laughter.

"Nath'n, this is definitely yer magnum opus! It's perfect how ye caught every second of it." Pickles said as he passed the phone to Abigail.

"I know, right! I've got catching his freak-outs down to a science. The trick is to start filming when he gets overly polite and restrained."

"No, but guys - the best part is that he completely avoids using his hands when he throws that punch, look..." Abigail passed the phone back to Nathan with a giggle.

"That's actually genius!" Nathan shouted excitedly.

Under the table, a foot nudged Skwisgaar's leg until he looked up and met Toki's crooked smile.

 

*******

Since the rain came pouring down after dinner, Nathan loaded everyone into his van to drop them off at their respective homes. As they filed out the door, Pickles and Abigail promised Toki to stop by tomorrow to help him figure out a permanent solution to keep his life on the rails. Toki waved at them from the doorway. Even though he had located a pair of comfy sweats in the duffel bag containing his clothes his bare feet got cold quickly, and he returned to the warmth of the living room.

Unsure of how to behave in this weird situation, he slipped right back into Lillehammer mode. Retrieving a book on the Reformation from upstairs, he sat down at the table and tried to study unobtrusively. It was hard with his head still throbbing and his swollen cheek pressing the corner of one eye shut. Skwisgaar drifted around restlessly, straightening the living room out until he sat down behind his piano. A glance at his phone made him get up again with a sigh.

"We, huh, can'ts plays after nines. Neighbour's kids goes to beds at dat times." He explained awkwardly when he caught Toki looking.

Toki nodded, then winced. It felt like his brain was a size too big for his skull when he moved his head.

"You alrights, Tokis?"

"Head still hurts. I can barely sees straights, let alone reads."

He closed his book; the letters danced in front of his eyes.

"Maybe a concussions? If you wants to sleeps I can sees abouts wakings you every now and den."

"Don'ts think I cans sleeps rights now. Still a bits on edge."

Skwisgaar nodded slowly, sinking onto the couch.

"I talked to my mother earlier…"

Skwisgaar looked up from where he searched for the TV remote between his couch cushions.

"She _saids_ she ams alrights, but I hates not knowings whats he mights does to her, you knows?”

“Hm, ja.” Skwisgaar agreed.

“It was goods to hears her voice, though. I calls her tomorrow when my dads works."

"Goods plan."

Turning on the TV, Skwisgaar flipped through the channels until he encountered one that broadcasted an opera. Curious, Toki migrated from the dining table to sit on the carpet between the couch and the coffee table. Leaning his side against Skwisgaar's leg allowed him to sit comfortably without anything touching his back.

"You can come sits on de couch, Tokis. You's not a dog whats can'ts sits on de forniture." Skwisgaar laughed out of the blue.

Unsure how to respond to that, he said: "Is okays like this."

Skwisgaar snorted.

"Come sits up here, little weirdo. You cans lie down, too, if you wants."

"Whats ams this opera?" Toki asked as he gave in and curled up on the couch cushions.

Lying on his right side was most comfortable, but he couldn't really follow the subtitles like this, so he propped his head up against Skwisgaar's leg.

"Ams 'Norma' by Bellinis. Gots some pretties stellar musics in it. Most peoples am all 'Casta Diva' dis and dats, buts de choirs am pretties awesome too, just watch."

"Cools. Whats dids we miss so far?"

"Dats lady ams like a Celtic priestess, but she gots two kids with dat Roman guy, is all big hush hush because dey enemies. And now her sorvant lady wants to bang dat guy too - is where it gets complicateds..."

Toki absently rubbed his itchy eyebrow against Skwisgaar's leg as he listened to him recount the details of the love triangle and familial relationships in 'Norma'. Skwisgaar's long fingers brushed the strands of hair that tickled him out of his face and tucked them behind his ear. Resting his hand on Toki's upper arm, Skwisgaar explained why the title role was one of the most difficult soprano roles, until the sound of a loud ringtone made him twitch violently.

 _DEEEMONS OF AAABYSS, WAIT FOR MY_ -

A lyrical man's voice belted over an ominous melody.

"I better gets dis." Skwisgaar mumbled as he fished his phone from his pockets and cut off the ringtone. "Hallå, mor. Hur mår du?"

Toki could hear a sultry woman's voice answer him from where he lay.

"Jag saknar dig, Skwisgaar. Varför har du inte ringt?"

"Ursäkter, jag har varit väldigt upptagen. Hur är vädret i Kiruna?"

"Det är iskallt..."

Toki shifted his focus back to the opera as Skwisgaar made a clumsy attempt to keep his mother happy with small talk. The longer the conversation went on, the more exasperated Skwisgaar's voice got. Padding over to the kitchen, Toki made them tea. Skwisgaar valiantly tried to shut his mother down as she guilted him into calling more often.

"Pffft." Skwisgaar made a face at his phone when she eventually hung up. "Saknar du mig nu, huh? Nu vet du hur det känns." He muttered darkly as Toki doubled back to the kitchen to get mugs. 

Skwisgaar went back to watching the opera, but his silence has a sullen edge to it that Toki did not like. Sitting down with his tea, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

"So.. you really punched my dads in the face, wowee."

He tried to take a sip, but the tea was scalding hot so he set it back down.

"I's so sorries. Thats was totally-" Skwisgaar looked at him, trailing off uncertainly.

"Is actually pretty greats. Wish I woulds has dareds."

The thought of reciprocating the violence had never entered his mind when his father punished him. Respect for his authority and fear for what he might do as well as the knowledge that his actions had consequences had rendered Toki practically defenceless. Somewhere deep down he knew that the intensity of Aslaug's more severe punishments crossed a line, but it had become normal over time.

"Well, he gots no powers over me, so is really just a stupids, impulsive things to does. But de ways he just didn'ts seems to regrets it or cares how you felts at all..."

"Still pretty greats to knows you cares."

"I does." Skwisgaar simply said.

That knowledge was the only thing that kept him from spiralling into despair over suddenly losing everything.

"Boy, I really hates it in Lillehammer, but knowings I can'ts ever go back home now make me real sads. Don'ts even knows when I can sees my mother again."

The knowledge that he had no means to sustain himself without the aid of his parents was terrifying. He had no experience working and no marketable skills - how was he even going to keep himself alive?

"Skwis?" He asked in a small voice.

"Hm?"

"Can I haves another hug? I mean, you saids-"

"Ja, Toki, of course." Skwisgaar said hoarsely.

Toki moved Skwisgaar’s arm so he could curl up against his side.

"Is okay to be sads,” Skwisgaar mumbled, his long fingers carefully stroking Toki’s back. “Just... don'ts worries, alrights? You goings to be fine."

Toki sighed against Skwisgaar's t-shirt.

 

*******

Still tired but definitely awake, Toki opened his eyes in a strange, dark room. Instinctively he knew he was not facing the right way he normally slept, and it disoriented him as he sat up to roll his stiff neck. His eyes gradually adjusted to the lack of light, and he could see the outline of a door on the other side of the room, and a window covered by white curtains behind him. Right. Skwisgaar's house.

The necessity to spare his injured face and back had forced him to sleep on his stomach with his head in an uncomfortable angle to the side. It left him with a deep aching cramp he could not reach for because of the pull of the wounds on his back. Perhaps a hot shower would work out some of the kinks. Feeling around for his phone, which was charging on the small night stand, his hand connected with the packet of painkillers first. Taking one of those might not be a bad idea either if he was going to go to lectures today. Hebrew began at nine on Mondays, and there was a change he would hear if he passed the exam. He could not miss that.

His phone told him it was seven in the morning, which was lucky, because he had not thought to set an alarm last night. There was so much to take care of today; on top of his usual busy schedule he needed to figure out how he was going to get the money he needed to pay his way, and preferably to keep studying, too. He had better get an early start.

 Toki had no idea what time Skwisgaar normally got up for work, but the house was still quiet when he got out of bed to find something to wear and the books he needed today. The clothes in Murderface's duffel were rumpled but clean, which was all he could ask for in this situation. Laying them out on the bed, he was about to head into the bathroom when he heard a loud alarm go off behind Skwisgaar's door, followed by a series of smacks punctuating ill-tempered grumbling.

"Var tyst, du grym ting... nej, jag säger _sluta_."

The alarm cut out, and Toki wondered if he would mess up Skwisgaar's routine if he went ahead and claimed the shower. He waited around to see if Skwisgaar would emerge from his room, but when ten minutes passed with no sign of him, he decided it was probably better to see if he had switched off his alarm and fallen asleep again. Skwisgaar's room was still dark when Toki cracked open the door and crept in. Hopping onto the white fur throw blanket that covered equally white sheets made Skwisgaar sit up with a startled noise.

"Jävla helveta!" He gasped, pulling the covers around his bare chest.

"Good mornings! Dids I wake you? I thoughts you was awake."

"I _was_." Skwisgaar said pointedly.

"Goods. I heard you alarms and then-"

"Tokis." Skwisgaar cut in. "Coulds you maybe... comes back laters?"

"Sures, I was just wonderings if I coulds take a showers right now."

"Ja, goes ahead."

"Wowee, ams this real furs?" He asked, stroking through the soft material.

"Toki."

"Yups. Goings."

Seeing his battered face in the bathroom mirror was no less of a shock today, though the swelling had subsided. The haematoma around his eyes had started yellowing at the edges, but retained their deep purple colouring. The cut on his cheekbone had scabbed over, but it was still very tender, and he hoped that did not mean it was infected. His back looked much the same; yellowing bruises and a handful of scabs.

When he let down his hair, he noticed that he kind of resembled a painting he had seen once of Jesus after Pontius Pilatus had his way with him. It struck him as funny despite everything.

The hot spray of water stung, but worked wonders on his sore muscles. A quick rinse took care of his greasy hair. Pulling on clean underwear and tying his hair, he went back to Skwisgaar's room while he waited for the scabs on his back to dry.

Skwisgaar lay snoring softly, curled around a pillow with his fuzzy hair escaping his ponytail from all sides. Toki wondered how much work it took for him to transform from this unguarded, dorky guy into the majestic creature he was in daylight. Reaching out, Toki shook him gently.

"Jag är vaken..." Skwisgaar sighed.

"Wants me to makes some breakfast?" Toki offered.

"Huh... just coffees." He opened his eyes. 

"What time you goes to work?"

"Noons."

"Why you up so early?" Toki asked.

"To gets some times to plays piano. Why ams you?"

"Gots Hebrews at nine."

Skwisgaar rubbed his eyes as he sat up, grabbed his glasses from the night stand and turned on the light.

"I wants to hears if I passed the exams." Toki blinked against the sudden brightness.

"Reminds me to finds you a keys before you leaves."

"Oh, yeah."

“How’s you heads?”

Skwisgaar examined his face, tilting Toki’s chin up with his fingers. 

“Betters, I think.”

“Goods.”

Skwisgaar released him, and Toki got the opportunity to take in Skwisgaar’s bedroom, which was decorated the same way as the rest of the house, white and minimalist.

“Wowee, you really loves whites things.”

"Toki?"

"Ja?"

"I'ms goings to gets out of beds now."

"Okay."

"I'ms not wearings anything."

"Okay. Oh! Black coffees, right?" Toki called as he scrambled out of the bedroom.

 

*******

**Notes**

Da tempeste il legno infranto, se poi salvo giunge in porto, non sa più che desiar. - If a ship, battered by storms, reaches safe harbour, it desires naught else. Aria from Giulio Cesare by Georg Friedrich Händel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1P3AbXLHYc

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Hvem er du?" - Who are you?

Swedish

"Du jävla barbar!" - You goddamned barbarian!

"Hallå, mor. Hur mår du?" - Hello, mother. How are you?

"Jag saknar dig, Skwisgaar, varför har du inte ringt?" -  I miss you, Skwisgaar. Why haven't you called?

"Ursäkter, jag har varit väldigt upptagen. Hur är vädret i Kiruna?" - Apologies, I've been very busy. How's the weather in Kiruna?

"Saknar du mig nu, huh? Nu vet du hur det känns." - You miss me now, huh? Now you know how that feels.

"Var tyst, du grym ting... nej, jag säger _sluta_." - Be quiet, you piece of shit. No, I said _stop_.

"Jävla helveta!" - Fucking hell!


	9. Fantasy in F minor

The elation of having passed the Hebrew exam gave way to a pounding headache when Toki tried to follow the lecture. Reading the square script did not come naturally to him, and his concussion was rather detriment to his abilities. He had come in at the last moment to sit at the back of the lecture hall, but once one of his classmates saw his face there was no end to the whispers, turning heads and stares. No one had the guts to inquire, however. The gawking was distracting and made Toki wish he could have stayed at Skwisgaar's place.

Where he had once thought of it as cold and sterile, the bright, orderly house now felt like a safe haven. Going out in public alone while he looked and felt like he did was a little frightening. He had half-expected to see his father around every corner when he walked to the faculty that morning. The next time he saw his father he would not let himself be beaten into submission again, he vowed to himself. It had seemed so easy to stand up to Aslaug when he saw Skwisgaar do it.

He only realised that he had been daydreaming about staying in and curling up on the couch next to Skwisgaar, who had taken his coffee in grey plaid pyjama pants and a knitted vest - that wool had looked really soft - when Professor Haraldstad asked him to read a passage from Jeremiah aloud.

Locating the right page, he fumbled his way through the verses, making the beginners mistake of pronouncing the qamets hatuf as an 'a' twice.

"Jeg beklager, jeg har en forferdelig hodepine," he mumbled at his frowning professor.  

"Andre studenter vil bo hjemme..." Barstadt said mildly. "I admire your dedication. Now, can you determine the word תֶּ אֱבַ ל for us?"

"It's a, eh, verb. Third person feminine... imperfect Pol'el?" He guessed.

"And which verb class do you think it belongs to, considering..."

Luckily he was not too far off.

Pickles found him in the faculty's coffee corner when he sank down at a table after checking his email at the library. He had no messages except a confirmation of his grade for Hebrew. The distraction Pickles provided was most welcome, because there was a two hour wait between Hebrew and History of Christianity and he did not have the concentration span to do any substantial amount of homework.

"Hey dood, how are ye feelin' tehday?" Pickles inquired.

He had tied his dreads back in a tail and wore a sleeveless band shirt with a picture of a snake coiling around a barrel on it, which Toki thought looked very cool.

"Hej Pickle. Kinds of weirds. I still hurts a lot all over, but everything go on, so I tries to keep up."

At least his headache had lessened after taking another painkiller.

"Ye look a bit more like yerself tehday. I didn't even recognize yer face yesterday." Pickles said, plucking at one of his eyebrow piercings.

"Ja, lookings in the mirror ams was a bit of a shock. You hasn'ts even seens my back."

"If it's anywhere near as bad as yer face, I ain't gahnna look at it. Hey, if yer naht too busy, we kin see about tahlking teh Ahffdensen aboot yer situation. I think he'd want teh know, bein' yer mentor an' all. Mibbe he has sahmthin' useful teh say."

"Ja, goods idea. Gots to thank him for helpings me pass Hebrew anyways."

Offdensen was on the phone, but he let them into his office as soon as the call ended. They sat down on the other end of his desk, which was piled high with academic literature in all shapes and sizes. It looked like he was in the middle of writing a new dissertation, but Offdensen shoved everything aside to listen. Toki appreciated Pickles' silent support as he recounted his predicament to his grave professor, who did not judge him but offered his sympathies and aid.

"This must be a, ah, hard time for you, Toki, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can help you boys with?"

"Heuh, I guess we could use sahm advice on how teh handle this so Toki won't have teh drahp oot." Pickles said.

"You mentioned you're staying with a friend for a while?"

Toki nodded.

"That's good, then we don't need to worry about finding you, ah, shelter. Do you have any income at the moment? None at all? I would advise you to take this up with the Ministry of Education and see if there are any grants available for you. You could also take a look at this:" Offdensen produced a list from one of his desk drawers. "These church communities have funds to aid theology students in buying books and other study related costs. You could try to, ah, winkle out some cash there. You should probably look into finding a part time job to support yourself, as well. There's a good number of employment agencies in the city geared towards students. Just remember you are only allowed to work a maximum of twenty hours as long as you're enrolled as a student."

Pickles handed Toki a pen so he could take notes on the back of the paper.  

"Thank you, professor. Now I’ve got somewhere to start." Toki said.

"Ah, normally I would not be so quick to say this, but... drop some classes until next year. You need to focus on getting through this, first." Offdensen suggested.

"We'll figure it oot, won't we?" Pickles said with an encouraging smile. "Cahm ahn, let's git you home - or d'ye feel up to yer other class?"

"I goes to class." Toki decided.

There was another grade waiting for him, and if he missed even five minutes of dr. Haugen-Blomberg's tightly packed lectures he would be behind.

"Good luck, boys. Oh, and Toki?"

"Yes, professor?"

"Gratulerer med hebraisk eksamen." Offdensen gave him one of his demure smiles.

"Tusen takk, professor. I could not have done it without your help."

"Don't mention it. You worked hard for it, and I'm proud of you."

It was only when Toki mulled it over during the 15 minute recess in History of Christianity that he understood why he felt so strange about Offdensen's compliment. The feeling of accomplishment was tainted by sadness in his mind. Hearing such sincere sentiment from a professor had caught him off guard. Having his efforts acknowledged was something he rarely experienced.

The determination to prove he did not need Aslaug's support to succeed in life as long as there were others who did care only became stronger with that realisation. The people he surrounded himself with played a vital role in his happiness, and he had never been more grateful for his amazing friends.

At the end of the lecture, Toki was well and truly knackered. He tried to take consistent notes, but he could not stop his thoughts from wandering every now and then. By the time the exam rolled around, it would be a good idea to compare them with someone else's, because he was not sure if he had actually gotten down all the important characteristics of European Christianity in the Enlightenment period. The walk home was longer than usual, but it helped clear his head a little, even though he still tried to use his own key on Skwisgaar's door out of habit. Adjusting to moving house without forewarning apparently did not go over one night's ice. Vaguely wondering what he should do with the furniture that was still in his old room, he stumbled into the hallway.

Skwisgaar had given him freedom of the house and told him to give his piano or his guitar some attention if he had the time, but it felt extraordinarily weird to enter alone. They had only been friends for the better part of two months, and here he was, staying over for an indeterminate amount of time.

Abigail would come over at five, but Skwisgaar was not due to come home until after six, so he had some time to kill. Instead of breaking his head over his worries or the homework he could not focus on, he dragged himself upstairs to take a short nap. His half-assed plan to jack off first was thwarted by falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Waking of his own volition an hour later he regretted ever lying down. His headache was worse, and he felt almost hung-over from such a short period of sleep. However, a painkiller and a cup of tea later he was actually excited about the idea of playing Skwisgaar's gorgeous grand piano. He had not been able to play a whole lot during his stay in Lillehammer for fear of making himself look suspicious - so much for his precautions - and he had missed his daily practice. Sitting down carefully on the bench, he admired the matte black finish of the vintage casing. Lifting the lid off the keys revealed the name Bechstein in elegant gold lettering. The memory of how fantastic it sounded overcame his shyness about touching it.

Reverence for the instrument instilled all the gentleness he needed for the beginning of Chopin's Fantasy in F minor, and the sounds of its perfect tuning reverberating through the room swept him up in an avalanche of beauty. For an hour he played everything he had learned under Skwisgaar's tutelage until the sound of the doorbell called him out of his trance.

"Hey, sweetie, how are you holding up?"

Abigail hugged him tightly, and though it smarted he appreciated the arms around him all the same.

"A bit betters. Some good sleeps last night sure helped a lot."

"Nothing like pain and exhaustion to make your problems seem insurmountable... But we're going to work on that today!"

She brushed his hair away to peer at the left side of his face, then toed off her shoes and followed Toki into the living room.

"Where's Skwisgaar?" She asked, glancing at the piano.

"At works."

"Was that you playing just now?"

"Yups."

"Wow, Toki!"

"I never hears anything like this pianos, wowee. You wants some teas?"

When they sat down at the dining table with steaming mugs, Abigail pulled a small laptop from her backpack.

"I've got something for you that might come in handy." She slid it across the table top towards him. "It's so much more convenient to manage your affairs online."

"Whats? No, I can'ts take that!" Toki protested.

"I'll make you. Seriously, though - between my smartphone and my gaming laptop I never use this thing anymore. Since you have neither, I've decided to give it to you."

"Is very nice of you." He murmured appreciatively. "Whats kinds of games you plays, Abigails?"

"Oh, you know. Diablo 3. Guild Wars... but let's take a look at this boring crap first, okay?"

Toki turned on the notebook.

"I formatted it, so hopefully you won't find any nudes of Nathan." Abigail laughed at his wide eyes. "I'm just kidding. Why don't we see about setting up a bank account for you? There's a number of banks that offer accounts for students at reduced cost, hang on..."

Angling the notebook so she could type, Abigail pulled up a handful of websites belonging to different banks. Toki looked on with interest as she walked him through the first steps of setting up his new account. In hindsight it was strange, to say the least, that his parents had never taught him how to manage his own affairs. That dependence had probably been exactly what had made him so easy to control.

The account his father managed for him had already been frozen, but not before he had withdrawn practically everything. At least he had somewhere to stash his ill-gotten money now. If he used it sparingly, it might last him until he found a job. The idea of dropping classes in favour of performing menial labour was extremely unattractive. It would delay his graduation and therefore cost him more money in the long run, but what choice did he have? He could not live on his friends' charity forever.

It was great of Skwisgaar to let him stay here, but Toki was afraid to jeopardise his position by blurring the lines between professional conduct and friendship even further. He was pretty sure that if it got out that Skwisgaar was housing a student there would be questions at the conservatory. He had better make sure he did not infringe on Skwisgaar’s hospitality for too long. If he was quick about gaining employment, he might even get his old room back before it would be let out to someone else.

When they finished applying online for every service Toki needed to become financially independent, Abigail headed over to the kitchen.

"You know how to cook, Toki?"

"Yeah, when I gots a recipe it usually work out. Is kind of like chemistries."

Most days he was happy to let someone else do it, but it was not exactly rocket science. And even if it had been – he had an affinity for rocket science.

"Good. In that case you can play for me while I throw a meal together - before Skwisgaar starts feeding you that awful microwave crap he eats."

"You gots the deal!"

 

*******

The age old adage 'careful what you wish for' had begun to make sudden sense to Skwisgaar overnight. Taking in a homeless, teenaged student was the dumbest thing he had done since he left Sweden, and he could only hope that no one at the conservatory got wind of it. In a way he had gotten exactly what he had been secretly wanting – except the premises under which it had come to pass were so indescribably fucked up that there was no way he could casually enjoy it. His worry about Toki kept him preoccupied for the better part of the day at work, though Toki's optimistic mood this morning had alleviated some of it. Toki would undoubtedly bounce back in time.

After Skwisgaar had gotten over the initial awkwardness of dealing with Toki during his morning ritual, he kind of hoped that the whole crawling onto his bed in the morning was going to be a regular thing. Toki's spontaneous and affectionate nature made it incredibly tempting to think there was potential for something more between them, but he could see how their current situation provided an unhealthy basis for a relationship. The power balance was all wrong; the risk of crossing boundaries if he made a move on Toki while he depended on him was too high.

 When he opened the small gate to his messy front yard, pushing the fallen, wet leaves aside, the smell of fresh cooking and the soft tinkling sounds of his piano greeted him at the door. He had never been happier to come home as he listened to Toki fill his house with music. Abigail's bicycle under the kitchen window explained the exotic scents that filled his nose as he fished for his key. Opening the door as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Toki, he snuck into the kitchen on his socks. Abigail turned to him, mirroring his grin.

"Oooh, this is bad, isn't it?" She giggled conspirationally. "It's so cute to see you like this."

"I can'ts stops with dis face, I'ms fuckings mortified." Skwisgaar demonstratively rubbed a hand across his mouth.

"Go say hi to him." Abigail prompted by poking him with a spatula.

"I'ms afraids he stop playings when I does."

"But you teach him right?" She frowned.

"Ja, dat's de whole problems. I'ms not a greats teachers."

"Well, this is your chance to not be an asshole, remember? Go on!"

Reluctantly letting himself be pushed out of the kitchen, Skwisgaar made his way to the living room. He felt so high-strung and elated at the same time when he saw Toki that he had no idea what to do with himself. Waiting until Toki finished his piece, he lingered in the doorway.

Toki moved his hands across the keys in a much more confident way compared to the beginning of the semester, and his improvement was a lot more visible in this unguarded moment than during their weekly lessons.

Skwisgaar was staring at the way Toki's hair slipped back over his shoulder as he tilted his head in appreciation of the fading chords when Toki noticed him. He immediately sat up straight as if caught doing something illegal.

"Hei Skwisgaar," he squeaked.

Walking over, Skwisgaar squatted down next to the bench to see what he was playing, but there weren't any scores on the ornately scrolled music rack. He did not recognise the music, but it sounded neoclassical; playing to Toki's strengths of fast arpeggio's and rhythmic chords.

"Hej Tokis. Whats was you playings just now?"

Toki took a deep breath.

"Actuallies... I was kinds of makings somethings up. Abigails ams so sweets on me todays, I wanted to plays something just for her."

Not being an asshole came easier in the face of Toki's self-conscious demeanour.

"Sounded greats. You's... improvings fast."

"Reallies?"

Wide eyes stared at him in disbelief. Skwisgaar noticed that Toki's left eye was still bloodshot.

"Ja, reallies."

"Seriously?"

Skwisgaar allowed himself a small smile.

"Don'ts thinks dinner am ready yet, maybe you cans play her some more."

Skwisgaar left him to decide whether he dared to in his presence, throwing his blazer over the back of a chair and stretching out on the couch with his back to Toki. Rummaging through his bag, he located his copy of Dragonquest. Ever so hesitantly, Toki began again; a slow variation on the theme he invented earlier, grounding it with reversed chords that gave it more texture. Giving up on reading after staring at the same sentence for minutes, Skwisgaar closed his eyes to listen undistracted. It was by no means a well-rounded composition, but Toki made up for that with the personality he poured into the music.

Suddenly, the mood overturned in a matter of seconds, turning dark and chilling until Toki got stuck and abandoned his post altogether with a sigh.

Scurrying into the kitchen, he helped Abigail with the final preparations for dinner, eventually returning with plates of some sort of flat pancake covered in marinated potatoes and haricots with chicken on the side - Skwisgaar had never eaten it. Abigail dug into the steaming dish with gusto, and Toki followed her lead. Skwisgaar shoved his food around with a fork until he had determined that he liked the separate ingredients well enough. Taking a careful bite, he felt the sweat break out in his neck as the spices obliterated his taste buds.

"Holy shits, Abigails!" Taking a gulp from his glass of water, he breathed through his mouth. "I feels like I coulds breathe fires after eatings dis!"

"You still on that dragon binge?" Abigail asked, raising one eyebrow.

Glancing towards the couch where his paperback lay, he shrugged.

"Maybes. Doesn'ts negates de fact dat you foods am scorchings me froms de inside."

"Still healthier than what you normally call food."

"At least dat foods am killings me slowly, not in one painfuls dinnersmeal."

"Oh, I'm going to kill you slowly if you keep whining."

"I likes it." Toki interrupted their bickering. "But if you tells me whats you would rather eats, I makes that tomorrow."

"You don'ts has to, Toki." Skwisgaar protested.

"I wants to. Cookings am fun."

"Didn't you say it was like chemistry earlier? I don't recall that being fun..." Abigail pulled a face.

"A little fun. Not as much fun as physics."

"I beg your pardon?" Abigail feigned indignation.

"Torns out Tokis am secretly a science geek," Skwisgaar said behind his hand. "maskskeradings as an artists like us."

"No way!" Abigail rounded on Toki with an over the top shocked expression.

"Ja, he tells me he wanteds to bes an engineer - whats dat word - with planes and shits."

"That would have been a waste of talent."

"I was more talented at that than freakings languages." Toki said, his face brightening as he remembered something. "I dids pass Hebrew, though. And Histories."

"Hey, good job!" Abigail gave him a nudge.

They returned to their food while Skwisgaar picked at his pancake. At least that was not too bad.

"Speakings of jobs," Toki spoke up again around a mouthful of food, "I sees this hardware stores a near the faculty ams hirings, so I goes to checks it out tomorrows."

"Yeah, you do that, it might even be fun!" Abigail said. "I always enjoyed my jobs. It mostly depends on having fun co-workers, the work is irrelevant..."

Abigail wrapped the leftovers from dinner up for Nathan when Skwisgaar insisted she take it out of his sight, and got on her bike to go home under a dark sky that threatened rain. Toki briefly ran outside on his socks to give her a peck on the cheek and thank her for everything, which Skwisgaar found both adorable and enviable. He hoped Toki had more sense than to start crushing on Abigail, amazing though she was. Firmly admonishing himself to stop thinking about what Toki's lips would feel like, he busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen. By the time he finished it had started pouring outside. Toki or no Toki, in Skwisgaar's opinion it was a fine evening for pyjama pants.

He got a phone call just as he was in the process of trying to find where he had left them this morning.

"Hey babe, are you ready to hear your tour schedule?" Dick Knubbler drawled in his nasal voice.

"Huh, ja. Lets me gets a pen, I writes it down."

Nervous anticipation tingled in his stomach at the mention of his upcoming concerts. It was actually going to happen. He was going to have to perform in front of huge audiences, and it was going to have to be perfect. All eyes on him. No room for error. Fuck.

"No, I'll email it to you in a minute, I just wanted to tell you myself and talk to you for a hot second."

"Alrights, let's hears it." Skwisgaar said, putting on a brave face.

"Okay, I know I said Fennoscandia, right? But the first week is actually Russia - Moscow and St Petersburg. The second is Finland - Helsinki and Turku. Then Stockholm and Göteborg, Copenhagen, Bergen and then you're making your way back home. Oslo's the last stop, so that's pretty convenient. You okay there?" Knubbler asked when Skwisgaar remained silent for too long.

"Ja. Is pretties great." He replied faintly.

"Come on, Skwisgaar, you were made for this! You're gonna be kicking ass and taking names!" Knubbler shouted excitedly. "I'm going to send you the schedule now so you can take it up with your other work."   

"Ja."

"And I haven't even told you the best part yet: there's a six-figure pay check involved for you."

"... you's serious."

"Of course I am! So. Let that sink in for a minute and try not to freak out like last time."

"I won'ts." He breathed.

"Okay, I gotta go. I'll call you later this week!"

Skwisgaar sat on the edge of his bed clutching his phone for a good long while before he thought about moving again. How could he be this terrified if he wanted it so badly? Rationally, he knew he had what it took to pull this off, but he had a hard time being rational about it. He changed out of his work wear eventually, exchanging his button down for a band shirt and bundling up in his vest. It was a shame it was too late in the evening to use his piano for some serious escapism.

Downstairs, Toki was giggling over his laptop, and Skwisgaar sat down next to him to watch him scroll through pictures of cats with illegible captions. He did not really get what was supposed to be so funny that it had Toki in stitches, so he turned on his TV to see if the new episode of his favourite series had downloaded to his NAS yet. The show was a little on the brutal side, and the first sign of blood and gore sent Toki upstairs. When the episode was over, Skwisgaar decided to check if he wanted to come downstairs again. He did not want to make him feel uncomfortable.

Toki must have heard him on the stairs, because he emerged from the spare bedroom.

"Does this look infecsted to you?" He asked, pointing at the cut on his cheek.

"Huh... hangs on, I puts on my glasses forst and den I has a look. Eyes ams a bit tired. Come, we gots better lights in de bathroom."

Toki followed him, gawking in fascination as Skwisgaar plucked the lenses out of his eyes and replaced them with his glasses.

"Alrights, now I ams sees better."

Tilting his face up for inspection, Toki stepped closer. It took a concerted effort of willpower and conscience to stop Skwisgaar from bringing his lips down on any skin he could get to. Instead he probed delicately at the cut.

"It do feels a bit warms. And dat scab haves a funny colours. I couldn'ts says, though. I nevers gets injured."

"How abouts this ones on my backs?"

Toki stiffly pulled his stained, greying t-shirt over his head and indicated one of the scabs on his lower back. Skwisgaar did not touch that one, but looking at it closely drew his attention to the ridges of an old scar just above his waistband. Apparently this was not the first time Aslaug Wartooth had resorted to corporal punishment.  

"I honestly don'ts knows, Toki, but tells you whats - you gots a GP in town?"

"No, I nevers been to one befores as far as I can remembers."

"I gots one a couple blocks away whats gots consoltings hour from seven thirties till nines. If it still not better in de mornings, I takes you dere."

Toki nodded, grabbing his shirt off the floor. Skwisgaar made a mental note to throw it away as soon as he found it in the laundry hamper. 

 

*******

**Notes**

Fantasy in F minor by Frédéric Chopin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5s2mtaQZQn0

**Translation**

"Jeg beklager, jeg har en forferdelig hodepine," - I'm sorry, I have a terrible headache.

"Andre studenter vil bo hjemme" - Other students would have stayed at home.

"Gratulerer med hebraisk eksamen." - Congratulations on the Hebrew exam.


	10. Follie! Delirio vano è questo!

"Hej Tokis, any luck findings a jobs yet?" Skwisgaar asked casually as Toki unpacked his binder with scores.

Toki froze, and hung his head in dejection.

"No, nots yet. I applies for five things this weeks but it’s just not workings. I don'ts know whats I'm doings wrong."

After two weeks of staying at Skwisgaar's house he was starting to get a little desperate. He really had to stop leeching off him as soon as possible. He felt like a complete failure for not landing anything so far. The urgency of the matter clouded his mind every minute he was not putting any effort towards applying for work.

"Hej, cheers up. I'ms not askings because I wants you to fucks off, but because I gots an ideas."

Skwisgaar took his feet from the stool behind the piano as he got up from his perch in the window sill. The soundproofed rehearsal room with its grey walls was dark with the threatening sky outside. It might start snowing today.

"Whats kinds of ideas?" Toki asked, curious now as he took up the vacant spot.

"You knows, sometime I gets calls from peoples whats wants private lessons, but I never gots times. So dis ladies calls me dis mornings saysing she gots a real talented kids whats needs lessons from me. I tells her I don'ts gots no time for her kids... but dat I coulds ask mine best students."

Skwisgaar looked at him expectantly, but Toki had no clue what he wanted him to say.

"Ams you, Toki. Stops it with dat goldfish face. You don'ts belongs in some dumb dildo hardwares shops or whatevers anyway. Whats if you hort you pinkie fingers?"

"Eh," Toki said unintelligently.

In his opinion no one was too good to do any sort of work, but of course he would prefer not to.

"So whats you thinks?"

"Seriously? I woulds be happies with anythings rights now, but that sound like greats fun. You thinks that ladies will falls for it? I gots no experience..."  

"Ja, I think so. I saids to her you can does it, easy, and she tolds me to have you calls her back if you wants to goes for it."

"Wowee, ja, thats am awesome!"

The hope of getting a chance to prove himself was all he needed to feel better.

"Gives to me you phone and starts playings dat Chopin. I gives to you her numbers."

Handing over his cell with an excited smile, he turned back to the keys to clear his mind and anticipate the music like Skwisgaar taught him to. He could dream the fantasy in F minor by now, but Skwisgaar was steadily raising the bar for him.

"Holds on - dat de tempo ams open to interpretations don'ts means you cans just does whatevers and lets goes of de rhythms. Whats always help me ams to keep movings you arms even though it don'ts do nothings. Don'ts lets it fall by de wayside, looks... Starts over?"

Toki obliged, and Skwisgaar took his left arm in a gentle grip, guiding it through a flowing motion while his right hand kept up the tempo. His fingers touched the keys again at exactly the right moment.

"See, there you goes..." Skwisgaar trailed off in a huff of laughter.

"Whats?" Toki asked uncertainly.

"You smells like de back of my closet."

"Ja, because thats am where my outfit comes from. I don’ts know whats it is but does your laundry machines eats mine clothes or some shits like that?”

"Band merch ams a goods look for you. Betters dan dat homeless Jehova’s Witness thing you has goings on."

"Hei! Well I guess you don’ts minds if I steals this hoodie forever, then? Is reals comfortkable."

"Steals away. When festivals season begin we's goings to a lots of metal concerts, alrights? Now plays me again dis things and thinks abouts whats I just shows you..."

 

*******

Literature of Ancient Israel dragged on and on with the prospect of potential employment, and Toki rushed home to make the call as soon as the lecture ended. Sitting down at the table with a pen and paper to take notes, he unlocked his phone. There was a new text.

_From: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_Aims high. Tells dat lady you charge 400 NOK per hours. Is what they expects. You cans teach from homes if you wants, too. Mights be convenient once you gets more students._

Toki's eyebrows shot up. He had better be good at this to be charging that. Willing himself not to cock it up with all his might, he dialled the number Skwisgaar had put in his phone.

"Anette Gundersen." Said a business-like, female voice.

"Hello, this is Toki. I'm Mr Skwigelf's student."

"Ah, yes, I was expecting your call." The lady wasted no time. "Here's the deal: My daughter Juliette is showing a lot of promise and she is _very_ dedicated. Lately, she has... outgrown her last teacher, so I'm looking for someone who is suitably qualified to teach her. Since Mr Skwigelf gave you such a good reference I'm very interested in having you teach Juliette."

How nice of _Mr Skwigelf_ , Toki thought with a smirk. You should hear what he says about me in class.

"How old is you daughter?" He asked out of curiosity.

"She's six years old."

"Alright. A prodigy."

He wondered how good a six year old could be. Would he have anything to teach her if she had already outgrown her old tutor?

"She has a great deal of talent, and I want to give her the opportunity to develop her abilities to the fullest. I'm thinking twice weekly lessons of an hour each. What's your hourly rate?"  

"Four hundred kroner," Toki bluffed.

"That seems reasonable. I was thinking Mondays and Thursdays after school, how is that for you?"

"That's fine. Would you want me to come to your house or would you prefer it if I taught her here?"

"Depends, what kind of instrument have you got?" Anette Gundersen asked critically.

"A Bechstein-"

"She'll come to you."

Toki inwardly smiled at the thought of grubby children's hands all over Skwisgaar's piano. He _had_ suggested it himself.

"Alright. What time is convenient for your daughter?"

"I was thinking four, that way she has a little time to recharge after school. When can you start?"

"I can start this Thursday."

"Perfect. My au pair will accompany Juliette. She'll pay you in cash, and if this all works out I'll see about wiring you monthly payments. How does that sound?"

"That sounds excellent."

That was an understatement, he thought as his heart pounded in his throat. Now all he had to do was live up to the expectations.

The remainder of the afternoon he suppressed the urge to jump up and down on the couch in excitement, trying to prepare himself for his new job, but as soon as Skwisgaar came home Toki launched himself at him in the hallway.

"Don'ts needs to ask you how it wents, I suppose?" Skwisgaar said as he steadied Toki.

"I'ms so exciteds abouts this, you haves no ideas!"

"You gots any idea whats you's doings?" Skwisgaar asked slyly.

"I'ms countings on you to tells me."

"You know whats, I wills. If you teach me somethings, too."

"Oh, anythings!" Toki exclaimed.

"I thinks it am high times I learns to speaks Norwegian properlies."

"I likes the ideas of turnings the tables on you."

"Ja, I thoughts you woulds." Skwisgaar gave him one of his minimal smiles.

 

*******

Unfortunately, with touring came the need for publicity, and his first interview for the Norwegian newspaper Aftenposten was taking ages. Even though Skwisgaar could summarise the relevant parts of his life's story in three sentences, the interviewer was not so easily satisfied. The well-dressed and attractive blonde lady had no interest in hearing that there was nothing more to his budding success than hard work, so she kept digging. Skwisgaar had no desire to talk about any aspects of his life before he enrolled at the conservatory in Stockholm, but of course she had to go there after they had exhausted the topic of the awards and competitions he had won during his time in Sweden.

"At what age did you start playing the piano?"

"Somewheres arounds age ten."

"That's pretty late for the average concert pianist. What made you decide to take up the instrument?"

The need to have a refuge outside the house, a purpose to distract him from being neglected, unwanted, and at the bottom of his mother's priority list. He had known for a while that his mother had a lot of different boyfriends, but until the day he had caught her with two of them on the sofa he had been blissfully ignorant as to what exactly she got up to with those men. After the initial shock and blaming on both sides had waned, his mother had decided that the best way to resolve the situation was to keep him out from underfoot so that she could continue doing what she did.

"The opportunity to haves musics lessons." He answered evasively.

"And why did you choose the piano?"

"I likes de sound."

He had no love lost for anything with a mouthpiece, and the piano was so much more versatile than other stringed instruments.

Knubbler, who was seated next to the interviewer on his couch, gave him a warning look.

"Huh... it give to you a certain freedoms. De pianos am an instruments whats always sound goods whether you makes music by youself or with someone else. Has a certain independensk to it whats appeal to me."

A glance at Knubbler's half-annoyed, half-relieved expression showed him that this was finally the type of answer they were hoping to hear from him. Skwisgaar was not cut out for this aspect of the job; in-depth talks did not come naturally. It would have been easier to put Toki in his spot and let him gush answers at that lady. Toki never had any trouble speaking his mind. He found inspiration in the smallest things. What was more; his education in the classics had lent him an eloquence that was belied by his shabby English, Skwisgaar had recently found out.

Since they had begun speaking Norwegian around the house so Skwisgaar could practice it, it had been a lot harder for him to keep up with the conversational topics. Toki thought and dreamed a lot deeper than Skwisgaar ever did. Sometimes it was a challenge to understand him through the barrier of language and mind-set now that the limitations to what Toki wanted express fell away.

Thankfully, other times he could be as simple as a five year old.

"Freedom and independence," echoed the lady.

"Ja - evens though when you plays at dis level you's chained to you instrument most hours of de day. So is kinds of paradokskical."

"'Chained' makes it sound more like a burden than a privilege."

"As I saids before, is hard works. No one gets anywhere in classicals musics by beings a Sundays child. Especially for de musicians whats starts at a real young age it ams both a burden and..."

Casting around for the right word, he was distracted by the click of the front door. A glance at Knubbler's ostentatious watch revealed that it was half past four, which was when Toki usually came home. As Toki poked his head into the living room, the interviewer repeated him again.

"Both a burden and...?"

"Addictions." He said absently as he turned to Toki, making an effort to switch to Norwegian. "Hei, sorry I forgots to tell you, but I got dis interview thing today..."

Despite his errors and bad pronunciation Toki picked up on their unspoken agreement to keep their living arrangement quiet.

"No problem, I’ll come back another time." He said in his polite student voice.

"I contacts you about it."

As soon as Knubbler and the newspaper lady fucked off he would let Toki know it was safe to come home. Skwisgaar hoped he did not mind going to one of his other friends for a while.

Turning back to his company he said by manner of introduction: "Ams my protégé. He play here regularly."

It was not strictly a lie, though their relationship just extended a little beyond that.   

"So, Mr Skwigelf, would you say it is an occupation that is all-consuming? Does your private life suffer under that addiction?"

Skwisgaar wished with all his might that she would scram, but judging from her face, this was where it got interesting for her.

"No. I's happy de way things am."

His blood relatives 1500 kilometres away and a handful of good friends nearby was all he needed as far as his private life was concerned, and his playing left exactly enough room for that.

Somewhere behind him the front door closed again.

"A lot of young musicians get into music because of their parents' ambition..."

Not another question involving his mom.

"... has your mother been a big influence on the path your career has taken?"

He could not stop himself from drawing in a big breath before letting it go in a controlled manner.

"She createds de opportunities - and in a ways de incentives - for me to focus on musics, but she nevers push me. I dids dat of my own choice."

"So no resentment there." The interviewer joked.

"No."

Not there. He resented her for the lonely evenings, the scarce meals, and the unsafe environment of strange men coming and going. He would have taken the pressure to achieve greatness over the neglect any time. He would have handled that a lot better. Even during most of his adult life, he had been hardly more than a social crutch for his mother. He had been the only steady factor in Serveta's life for a long time, but it was more out of a sense of lingering duty than a real connection between them. Moving to Stockholm to study at the conservatory had felt like he was abandoning her just like all those other men, but it was either that or wait until she dropped him.

"That's good to hear. What I'd like to talk about now is how your unusual programme has been created. Critics might say that there is no consistent theme to the pieces you've chosen."

"Dat woulds be a very short sighted things to says before listenings to de concert." He said sharply, still clinging to his emotions. Moderating his tone a little, he continued. "It amen'ts a matter of theme or composers - de musics as a whole ams tellings a stories. De details of whats you hears in it mights be differents for everyones, but I assures you dere ams a message to it." 

"And what message is that?"

The more he played it, the more certain of it he became. The visually oriented description Toki had tried giving him once had been unfathomable, but he had realised what it meant to himself in time.

"Hopes. Hopes to rise beyonds whats chain us down and tears us aparts from de inside."

"Well, this has certainly made me very eager to see you play. Thank you so much for your time."

Skwisgaar breathed a little easier when the lady switched off her voice recorder and packed it away to shake his hand. Knubbler got up to show her out, fawning at her heels. As soon as he heard her car start outside, Skwisgaar got out his phone to text Toki the coast was clear. He had not counted on Dick Knubbler straggling.

"What's the deal with that Toki kid?"

Knubbler bored his eyes into Skwisgaar's.

"There amen'ts a deal." He struggled to keep his voice detached.

"Okay, so he just comes here to play piano, huh?"

"Obviouslies."

"You're not, uh, you’re not involved with him?"

"No."

"He let himself into your house." Knubbler said sceptically.

"He teach pianos to littles kids here when I not arounds so he gots a key." Skwisgaar countered with a scowl.

"Okay, I didn't mean anything by it, babe. It's none of my business, anyway."

Knubbler held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"Indeeds. Does you minds? I gots some more works to does."

 

*******

When Toki got back from hanging out with Pickles and Murderface in the early evening, Skwisgaar was drunk. If it would have been any of his other friends Toki would have attributed it to the fact that it was close enough to Friday night to start partying, but Skwisgaar did not look like he was having a party. He was staring into space while drinking straight from a bottle. Toki had never actually seen him shitfaced, though there had been plenty of funny stories from Nathan, which usually ended with Skwisgaar passing out somewhere in various states of undress.

Setting his bag on the floor, he pulled up the chair next to where Skwisgaar sat at the table.

"Hva er galt med deg?" Toki ventured.

"Jeg ønsker inte å føle..." Skwisgaar slurred, confusing a Swedish word for Norwegian.

" _Ikke_ å føle. Feel what?"

"It make me sads and it horts." He continued in English when the Norwegian escaped him. "Been sads about it för lång tid. Too fuckings long."

Heavily resting his head on his arms, he made the bottle sway precariously when he almost knocked it over. Toki set it aside.

" _For lang tid_. Oh, what the hells, you's drunk anyways."  He said, switching too.

"Nej, tala norsk til meg.

" _Snakke norsk_. This is going to be a long conversation this way. Why don't you stop drinking for a while so we can talk more easily?"

"Hm."

Skwisgaar allowed Toki to put the bottle back in the kitchen, and returned to numbly staring ahead. Toki sat with him for a while, willing him to talk, but nothing was forthcoming. Intoxicated, however, Skwisgaar failed to maintain his aloofness as a cover for his desolation.

"Stand up. I'm going to give you a hug." Toki ordered.

"Ja, snälla." Skwisgaar mumbled, shoving back his chair obediently.

"Try again."

"Dere amen'ts a good words in Norsk... Jeg ønsker at?"

"Try more politely."

"Gjerne. Jeg vil gjerne...huh..."

"The phrase you’re looking for is _vær så snill_. Come here." Snaking his arms underneath Skwisgaar's, Toki gave him a tight squeeze. "I don't know what's going on, but I don't want you to be sad."

He had to stand on his toes to give Skwisgaar a soft peck on his cheek. At least, he aimed for his cheek, but ended up more on his jaw.

"Toki, du er så søt." Skwisgaar murmured as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

"You know it," Toki smiled. "Did that interview stir up some crap?" He guessed.

"I don't want to talk about... huh... it."

"What, then?"

"This is good." 

It was beyond strange seeing Skwisgaar this vulnerable and exposed, especially since only hours ago he had been his usual superior pain-in-the-ass self in music theory. Toki had never heard him admit to feelings other than hate and disgust before, and though it was occasionally possible to tell that he was scared about his upcoming gigs, Skwisgaar never openly talked about it. Toki's heart went out to him in a way that had less to with sympathy or pity and more with a fondness that slowly suffused his limbs as they stood. No one had ever let him this close before. Experimentally running a hand across the smooth fabric of Skwisgaar's button down shirt, he hoped he was doing the whole comforting thing right.

Skwisgaar buried his face in Toki's neck with a noise like a wounded animal, and Toki was not sure if he imagined the ghost of lips against his skin before the sound of the doorbell made Skwisgaar look up.

"Fan..." He groaned.

"Fy _faen_." Toki agreed with a smirk.

Nathan barged in like a human battering ram when Toki opened the door, throwing him over his shoulder and stomping into the living room.

"Hey little goofball, how was your first day as a productive member of society?" He rumbled.

"I tells you when you puts me down and takes you boots off." Toki squeaked from his dizzying perch.

"Dear god, you're starting to sound like Skwisgaar. It's time you got your own place again."

"I knows, I'ms workings on it."

Nathan obliged regardless, and flopped down next to Skwisgaar with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so ready for a pepperoni pizza - are we going to order some or what?"

"Pffft, ja, goes ahead." Skwisgaar mumbled.

"Are you drunk?” Nathan directed his questions at Toki when Skwisgaar did not answer. “What's wrong with him? Did his mom call or something?"

"Honestlies, I don'ts knows." He replied, sitting down on Skwisgaar's other side.

"Ugh, whatever."

Nathan trudged upstairs to Skwisgaar's PC with heavy steps to order pizzas online. Thwarting Toki's attempt to resume their earlier closeness, Skwisgaar stood up and wandered off in the same direction, only returning after Nathan did.

"Okay, Toki, spill. How did it go?" Nathan commanded, cracking open one of the beers that Skwisgaar brought in.

"Ja, so that kids comes in yesterdays with hers au pair, and I was reals nervous to screws it up..."

To his relief, the au pair had sat down on the couch and kept herself occupied with her smartphone, leaving Toki to deal with the kid. He had been afraid that she would be looking over his shoulder the whole time, but she paid him no mind. Juliette was a little blond girl in a black dress with several missing baby teeth. He had not really known what to expect of her skill from the way her mother had spoken about her, but to his relief there was room enough for improvement on what she had prepared for him to keep her occupied for an hour. She learned quickly and was gracious about taking advice, which made it fun to work with her. Neither Toki nor the au pair paid attention to the time, and it came as a surprise when Skwisgaar walked in a little past five. He watched silently from the doorway as Toki corrected Juliette's finger placement throughout a small sequence and asked her to play it again.

"Good job, Juliette," Toki praised her when she got it right. "You worked hard today, I think we're done."

"You's a champion!" Skwisgaar said in his accented Norwegian, giving her the thumbs up from his spot against the door frame.

The au pair dropped her phone when she noticed Skwisgaar, and Toki could sort of see why. The wide, dorky grin he had for the child made his eyes light up, brightening the entire room.

"You must be Juliette! Are you hasing fun with Toki?"

"Yes." Juliette replied confidently.

"Porfect." Skwisgaar said.

When Juliette put on her coat the au pair handed Toki a wad of cash before taking out a pen and scribbling her phone number on Skwisgaar's hand with a wink. Toki returned to the living room to put his money away after they left, but in the kitchen the tap ran for a long while. Skwisgaar returned with clean hands, and it gave Toki the strangest satisfaction. 

"Yeah, you've never done anything like this before, right?" Nathan asked him presently.

"No, I nevers worked a days in my life. Not paids, anyways."

"He ams a natural. Didn'ts even calls dat kids a dildos once." Skwisgaar said with a hint of pride.

 

*******

"Skwisgaar?" Toki asked on a cold Wednesday night in late November, looking up from where he lay studying on the plush carpet at Skwisgaar's feet.

"Hm? What is it, Toki?"

He used a page marker before closing his paperback.

"I think I almost have enough money to get my own room again. You think I should start looking?"

Skwisgaar knew the day Toki would leave was approaching fast since he had gained a steady income. Word of mouth had made him a popular teacher, and three afternoons a week he coached a string of primary school kids. Skwisgaar was happy his plan had worked out. Seeing Toki gain confidence through his accomplishment as a teacher was great, but the thing was, he never wanted Toki to leave. Toki living in his house had brought Skwisgaar more reprieve from his loneliness than a hundred random hook-ups.

"What happened to your old room? And your bed and stuff?" He asked.

"The landlord let it out to someone else, but Murderface stored my furniture somewhere."  

"Oh."

"So..."

"I, huh... you know I'm going on tour for a month, right? And that's only three weeks away, so... I kind of wanted to ask you if you would stay and watch my house."

The tour was the best excuse ever to keep Toki around for a little while longer.

"Aren't you afraid that me staying here is going to compromise your job, or something like that?"

"Fuck my job." Skwisgaar said whole-heartedly.

"Seriously?"

"No one's found out so far, and what if they do? It's not as if we're... I mean, I like this. And this is convenient for you, too, right? With the teaching and everything?"

He waited with bated breath to see if Toki would consider it.

"Yeah, I love living with you. You're a really great guy when you're not ripping me apart in class." Toki grinned.

Toki saying stuff like that kept making it so incredibly hard for Skwisgaar to keep quiet about his feelings for him. But even though it was a struggle some days, he never wanted this to end. He was managing it, apart from that one time he almost kissed Toki's neck when he was drunk. Not drinking around Toki anymore had been an easy fix; a small price to pay for their continued friendship. What also helped was that he was just plain sad over what he could not have most of the time now, instead of wanting to jack off over every glimpse he got of Toki's built physique. It was an exquisite form of torture.

"Takk." He said softly. "Will you stay, then?"

"Ja, gjerne."

After a while, Toki closed his book with a snap, announcing that he was beyond done with studying. He hopped onto the couch.

"Kjæle meg, jeg er en katt." He said, stretching out with his head in Skwisgaar's lap.

Skwisgaar laughed, booping his nose.

"Jeg ser ikke noen værhår."

Foregoing the temptation of using a sharpie, he fished a pen from Toki's bag and drew a set of whiskers on his face.

"There. Now you are a cat. You had better not shed on my fucking couch."

Toki grinning up at him was incredibly distracting as he tried to get back into his book.

"Well, are you going to pet me, or what?" Toki asked coyly.

Hoping with all his might that the black ink on Toki's face was absurd enough to stop him from getting a hard-on, he threaded a hand in Toki's hair to scratch lightly at his scalp. Toki hummed contentedly.

"Tell me what your book is about."

When he drew his hand away to put his book onto the table without moving, Toki snatched it out of the air and returned it to his face, headbutting it like a feline. It made Skwisgaar laugh again, and he tossed his book with his left hand instead.

"Huh, it ams about dis woild whats has drag-"

"På norsk."

"Men boken er på engelsk!" He protested.

He did not possess the vocabulary to describe fantasy worlds, but that was probably exactly Toki's point.

"Jeg bryr meg ikke." Toki said with a smug grin.

"You're bossy."

"You know it."

 

*******

**Notes**

Follie! Follie delirio vano è questo! - It's madness! It's empty delirium! Aria from La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vF0xd9h63Y

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Hva er galt med deg?" - What is wrong with you?

"Jeg ønsker ikke å føle..." - I don't want to feel

"Snakke norsk til meg." - Speak Norwegian to me.

"Jeg ønsker at / Jeg vil gjerne / Vær så snill" - I want it / I would like / Please

"Kjæle meg, jeg er en katt." - Pet me, I'm a cat.

"Jeg ser ikke noen værhår." - I don't see any whiskers.

"Men boken er på engelsk!" - But the book is in English!

"Jeg bryr meg ikke." - I don't care.


	11. Oh sleep, why dost thou leave me?

Toki was confused for a moment when he walked into the rehearsal room and Skwisgaar was not there. Doubling back to M407 to check if he was teaching there instead, he walked in on a man with white streaked hair and a goatee lounging near the window. Even from a distance, Toki could see that there was something off about his left eye. Dusting the snow off Skwisgaar's old leather jacket, he dumped his backpack on the small table in the corner.     

"Mr Hammersmith?" He asked, walking up to him.   

The man had an emaciated face, though it was nowhere near as angular as Skwisgaar's. That eye was remarkable, however, and Toki wondered if the milky white colour meant that it was blind.

Of course Skwisgaar had mentioned that he would take a break from his work at the conservatory, but Toki had not really kept track that that would be from this week on. It was going to be an awfully long time before he would resume his work, as far as Toki was concerned.

"That'd be me. Call me Magnus." The man offered with a kindly smile. "So, you must be one of Mr Skwigelf's victims." He joked.

"Skwisgaar and I actually get along." Toki jumped to contradict his presumptions, the colour rising in his face.

He would defend Skwisgaar in hell, because he adored him despite the fact that he was a harsh teacher. Sure, his perfectionism was exasperating at times, but there was so much more to him that deserved to be appreciated. Toki could not help wanting to make other people see that, too.

"Well, there's something I don't hear every day." Magnus chuckled. "What's your name, buddy?"

"Toki Wartooth. Eh, nice to meet you, Magnus."

Remembering his manners, he extended a hand, which Magnus shook firmly.

"Alright, Toki, show me what you are working on at the moment." He indicated for Toki to take a seat at the piano.

"I've been working on the Scherzo from Schubert's sonata in A minor for the last weeks, but I've also prepared the Rondo." Toki explained as he unfolded his score on the music rack.

When Magnus said nothing further, he began with the Scherzo, focussing on keeping his timing precise under the push and pull of the dynamics. They still had not fixed the G sharp, and it annoyed Toki after weeks of playing the perfectly tuned Bechstein at home.

"It says here that you are a minor student. Is that right?" Was all Magnus had to say as Toki let the last notes fade away.

"Ja, I'm a Theology student."

Magnus' eyebrows shot up.

"I don't know what Mr Skwigelf has been telling you, but if you auditioned for the full-time education, you would definitely have my vote."

"We never talked about it, actually."

"I wonder why..." Magnus said quizzically.

Toki did not bite. Whatever the substitute meant by that, he had invested too much time in Theology to drop it just like that, and Skwisgaar knew that. Moving on to the Rondo when Magnus offered nothing in the way of constructive criticism on the Scherzo, he played undisturbed for the entirety of the movement. He noticed at least three problematic things that Skwisgaar would have stopped him for, but Magnus waited until he was done.

"I'd like to start again, that bit in the fourth system was-"

"Relax, Toki. You'll find that I'm a very different teacher than Mr Skwigelf..."

As if he needed the reminder, Toki thought irritably.

"This piano needs tuning." He snapped. "This G sharp" he demonstratively pressed it a few times "is off."

"Well, unless you want to fix it yourself right now, I suggest you overlook it for the moment. It won't influence my opinion of your playing, I promise. Sometimes being able to overlook minor flaws makes for a less stressful environment."

 

*******

"I think the substitute teacher has it in for you," Toki commented from the kitchen as he ladled dinner onto two plates.

"Oh, really? How was your lesson with Mr Hammersmith, then?"

Skwisgaar got up from behind the piano, flexing his fingers and wrists as Toki entered the living room with their food.

"He was nice to me, but he talked shit about you a lot."

Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously, on more little jibe and I was going to punch him in the face. It was like he needed to put you down in order to make himself look better."

It was extremely unprofessional, and Toki still felt a little angry about it. He did not come to the conservatory for this sort of bullshit. Was every teacher there an asshole?

"That's harsh, Toki." Skwisgaar said as he sat down.

He did not seem particularly surprised by the news.

"Also, take off that hat at the table."

Stuffing it into his pocket, Toki tried to comb his hair into a semblance of neatness with his fingers. It was getting pretty long; past his collarbone now.

"You should be the one to speak. You didn't even put on any regular clothes today." He protested. "If I can't wear a hat at the table, why can you sit here in your pyjamas?"

"Because it's my house." Skwisgaar replied with a triumphant smirk.

"Pfffft." Toki said in imitation of him. "Anyway, he's got the wrong guy if he wants to vent about you. You're my favourite person in the whole world."

Skwisgaar gave him a strange look as he shovelled potatoes in his mouth, so he sat up straight and tried to chew a bit more civilised for his sake.

"What did you do to him anyway, that he's got such a grudge against you?" He asked.

"Nothing. Well, not actively. A lot of his students flocked to me when I first started working here, because I'm a much better musician than he is. But they learned not to do that soon enough, so I hoped he would not take it personally." Skwisgaar said. 

"Kind of like how I was considering asking to study under Magnus in the beginning." Toki grinned back. "Your methods take some getting used to."

"It weeds out the unmotivated and untalented. And the overly sensitive, apparently. What made you decide to stay?"

"Getting to know you. And Nathan and Abigail showed me that it was possible to take shit from you in school and be pals outside of it."

"You would not be where you are now if you had studied under Magnus."

"I know! He's so easily satisfied in comparison! Hell, I would not even be the same person if I had walked away from you."

"Hm?"

"Just, less... Less happy, less driven, less independent. The way you helped me bounce back after my dad cast me out shaped me more than you know."

"You had all of that in you, but you just needed a little push here and there. It's good to hear that you realise that now, though."

When Skwisgaar favoured him with one of his rare, unguarded smiles it sent a jolt through Toki's stomach that left him with no appetite. 

"So yeah, I kind of missed you today," he mumbled, shoving his food around with his fork.

"And I'm not even gone yet. If you want I can take a look at your playing after dinner, see what Magnus missed."

"Yeah, I guess," Toki agreed. "Or we could just hang out. I can imagine you've spent enough time nit-picking."

"So basically, you just want some attention." Skwisgaar said in mock accusation.

"Is that a bad thing?" Toki asked with his best puppy eyes.

"It helps that you happen to be my favourite person, too."

Skwisgaar gave him that strange look again as Toki circled around the table to wrap his arms around his neck from behind. It meant a lot to him to hear that. He was not sure if giving Skwisgaar a kiss was appropriate in this situation, or why he wanted to with every fibre of his being, so he did not. Big, bony hands covered his and Skwisgaar sighed.

"Jeg er ikke klare til å reise." He admitted.

"Er det musikken eller er du nervøs?" Toki asked.

"Nei, det er..." He hesitated. "komplisert."

"Why don't you talk to me about it?"

"As I said, it’s complicated."

 

*******

The tension between them is insurmountable as they sit side by side on the windowsill of the rehearsal room, the back of Toki's hand warm against his. The room is murky, lit by a low light that has no detectable source, and behind them clouds broil red and grey. Their thick and suffocating texture mirrors Skwisgaar's churning emotions. Toki is not as talkative as usual, but as Skwisgaar clings to the last vestiges of his sense of propriety, he speaks up: "Jag är kär i dig, Skwisgaar."

He cannot figure out whatever reason Toki has for speaking Swedish, but is not important. He has waited so long to hear this; he does not care in what language the message is delivered. There is only the monumental outpouring of love when Skwisgaar finally cracks and kisses him, throwing caution to the wind. Something in the back of his mind screams that this is not right; there is something he is forgetting. There is a reason he cannot do this, but what he feels for Toki will not be denied. It traverses all boundaries, both conscious and unconscious, in the press of soft, yielding lips and the rub of clean shaven chin. He is going to hang for this, but in this moment, it is worth it.

"Me too, I've loved you for so long." He speaks against Toki's cheek. It's been a lifetime of holding back.

Toki's hair spills across the rough carpet, the disappearance of his hoodie and shirt revealing a perfect ratio between narrow hips and wide shoulders. The floor of the conservatory is not the right place to do this, and leading Toki through the door lands them in his mother's house. He cannot make out what Serveta is screaming at them, and he does not care as he leaves her in his wake. She is the last person who has a right to judge him. Toki follows him meek as a lamb, letting Skwisgaar cover his body with his own in the single bed of his childhood room. The wintry sun shines through the window in Sweden, and when he looks back to Toki his face is covered in bruises.

"I'll never be the same." Toki says, and it's somehow his fault; he has corrupted him, though the details escape him. Did he put those bruises there, or did someone else?

Telling Toki that he loves him helps; the sense of relief and belonging is the best thing he has ever felt as arms wrap around him, so he says it again. "Jag älskar dig," and Toki replies "också."

It's spring in the meadow atop the mountain; a falcon glides through the clear sky overhead. Their embrace is so warm and fuzzy; he's bursting with the unadulterated joy of their closeness. The sexual undercurrent is barely noticeable beneath the overwhelming sense of comfort.

A sharp noise pulls him away from Toki, casting him through a whirl of stars into a different dimension of darkness and noise.

It was his alarm clock.

It was eleven in the morning, and he was alone in a hotel room in Saint Petersburg.

The black hole of loss inside his chest quickly swallowed up the lingering bliss he felt over kissing Toki in his dream. He shut his eyes again to chase the tatters, but he was too awake now.

He felt as if he could cry with the frustration of not having an outlet for his emotions. Abigail was most likely getting sick of his moping and Toki could not know, not yet, which exhausted his list of friends who were good listeners. Since it was his last concert in Russia tonight, he considered using the three day break in the work to go out and hook up, but what use was that if he was just going to look for Toki in a place where he could not find him?

Two more weeks before he would be back in Norway.

Maybe he could stick it out until the tour was over, but afterwards Skwisgaar was going to tell him. As long as it remained a secret and a taboo in his mind, he would never move past it. All he could hope for was that Toki would not feel too violated to end their friendship altogether. If he did, well - there would be grief, but it would pass, in time.

As he buried his face in his pillow, his phone chirped with an incoming message.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Hei Skwisgaar, I hope you have a great time tonight :)_

_You got skype on your laptop? It's about time I saw your face again._

"You have no idea what you're doing to me..." He groaned at his phone before typing a reply.

Skwisgaar was dying to talk to him, for a glimpse of his face after so long apart. Toki taking the initiative eased his mind a little about coming across like a stalker. He had become so used to seeing him every day that it physically hurt to be away.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Thanks, Toki. :) I'm going to see if my room has wifi and install it_

_When are you going to be on_

Padding across the room to leaf through the hotel's pamphlets, his phone buzzed in his hand.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Whenever. I'm staying in to study for midterms anyway_

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Am I not distracting you_

Pulling on some clothes and combing his hair into a semblance of neatness, he went down to the lobby to get some coffee and the Wi-Fi password. He decided he would shower between rehearsal and putting on his tails.

Back in his room there was a reply waiting for him.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_You not being here is distracting_

If Toki had shown himself to be any less oblivious about the boundaries between familial and romantic love Skwisgaar would have thought he was flirting with him, but as it were, it would not do to get his hopes up.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_What, you need me to tell you to go study_

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_No I just miss you :(_

There was no stopping his surprised and delighted laugh at the message. However he interpreted it, someone actually valued his presence enough to miss him. That someone being Toki only made it better.

 

*******

The third time he noticed his eyes drooping over his translation of Ruth, Toki had had enough. If he could not get any sleep at night he would just sleep whenever during the weekend. No sense in tormenting himself with his exams coming up next week. He could always try to establish a more normal rhythm in during the Christmas holidays. He could not believe how much it bothered him that Skwisgaar had been gone for two weeks, and would stay gone for an equal amount of time. Never before had he been so weirdly dependent on the company of someone else. Some days he felt a little sick with it, some nights he could hardly sleep. It was awful.

Closing the window of Bibleworks, he dragged himself upstairs for a nap. Once in his cold room, he realised with annoyance that his sheets were in the laundry machine. Not wanting to sleep on his bare bedding for fear he would drool on it in his sleep, he decided to sleep in Skwisgaar's bed instead. He probably would not mind. Unzipping his hoodie, he slid between the smooth white covers in his sweats and t-shirt, burrowing under the fur blanket.

Sleep came easily, but after an hour he woke with a sore neck because the pillow was a little too thick for a comfortable position on his belly. Unwilling to get out of bed yet, he decided to trade it with the spare pillow to see if that one was flatter. When he slipped his hand underneath it, he hit something cool and solid. Curious, he felt out the cylindrical shape of a plastic bottle.   

Drawing the pillow aside, he uncovered a bottle of lube, and, to his unholy delight, something made out of black silicone, shaped like a dick.

Apparently, Nathan's name-calling was not a random insult.

He had no time to further examine his find, because downstairs the video conversation alert went off on his laptop. Bounding out of bed, he geared up to put Skwisgaar on the proverbial rack with a huge grin on his face.

Answering the request, he pulled up the video feed. A cold white light washed out most of the colours where Skwisgaar was sitting because it had been snowing in Helsinki, too. He looked reasonably at ease, most likely because he had no performance tonight. The ends of his ponytail were spilling out of the black hoodie he had pulled over his head.

"Cold out there?" Toki asked.

"Pffft, ja. I haven't moved all day so it's probably my own fault. I mean, it's not even that far below zero. What are you smirking about?"

"Nothing." Toki said as he schooled his face to a more neutral expression. "Just happy to see you, as always."

"Huh. Me too." He said softly. "What were you up to just now? Took you a while to answer."

"Oh, you know - just uncovering some of your better-kept secrets." Toki snickered.

"What?"

Skwisgaar looked taken aback, his eyes darting as he mentally battled the loss of control.

"I found out where you got your nickname."

"What nickname...?" Skwisgaar asked carefully.

"Swedish dildo licker."

Toki held back the giggles that threatened to bubble up in order to see Skwisgaar's reaction.

"What are you talking about?" Skwisgaar demanded with a guarded frown.

"I took a nap in your bed-"

"Oh god, stop talking, Toki, I don't even want to hear this."

Mortification crept across Skwisgaar's features, and Toki let himself fall sideways onto the couch, laughing hysterically.

"If you're going to be a five year old about this-"

"...dildo licker..." Toki wheezed.

"Nice talking to you." Skwisgaar said icily.

If he had not been so deathly pale he would probably be blushing in spite of his glacial demeanour.

"Hei, wait-" Toki sat back up.

Skwisgaar mercilessly hung up on him, and did not answer when Toki called him back, disappearing offline entirely. Disappointed, he sat around for a minute, mentally scolding himself for being such a child. Laughing at such a private matter had been a very inconsiderate thing to do - however funny he found it. Grabbing his phone, he thought hard on a way to get back into Skwisgaar's good graces.

_To: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_Sorry for being an asshole. Please come back and talk to me._

_Want me to lick a dildo so we're on equal footing cause I will :p_

When no reply came through that medium either, Toki returned to his studies. Feeling angry with himself made it hard to focus. In the late afternoon he sent out another text because he could not let it go.

_To: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_Jeg er lei for såre deg :'(_

After an hour something finally came back.

_From: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm so ashamed of myself._

_To: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_Don't be! I really don't think anything bad of it. Can we talk?_

_From: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_No. I'm going to get some dinner._

Toki waited two hours before asking again, restlessly drifting through the house in the face of their unresolved fight.

_To: Skwisgaar Skwigelf_

_How about now? I really want to talk to you._

"I don't even know why you want to see my face right now." Skwisgaar said flatly without looking at Toki when he allowed him to call again.

"Oh, come on Skwisgaar; stop sulking before I start listing all the reasons."

When he did not say anything else, Toki ticked his list off on his fingers.

"Because I want to hear your voice; because you make the best expression when you speak, and I don't want to miss out on that; because of the way you-"

"Toki..." Skwisgaar interrupted, but he looked a little mollified.

"So how did you get that nickname? Regardless of what I did or didn't see." Toki amended quickly.

"I had a staring contest with Nathan when we were drunk." Skwisgaar quirked his wry half-smile. "The loser had to lick a freshly used one, though that part did not really pan out."

"Wait, the licking is not what you normally do with those things?"

Hanging out with his friends had made him aware that his knowledge of anything sex related was severely lacking, but they weren’t very keen on enlightening him either.

"Toki, I teach piano, not sex ed. You have internet, find out for yourself how it works."

"Okay." He said, opening his browser and typing a sloppily formulated question into the search bar. His query turned up a lot of images. Why had he never thought to do that before? 

"Wait, are you doing that right now?" Skwisgaar said with a horrified edge to his voice.

"I only see girls here - eugh, that looks kind of gross."

Toki wrinkled his nose at the sight of the pornographic images, mostly featuring close ups of female genitalia, often accompanied by horrible talon like nails. If he was a girl he would not want hands like that anywhere near his privates. 

"Girls aren't gross, Toki."

"I never said that. But knowing what girls do with them doesn't really help. You're not a girl." He levelled puppy eyes at Skwisgaar through his webcam.

“…Toki.” Skwisgaar looked a little sick.

“Skwis, please.”

"You put it in your butt." Skwisgaar sighed.

"Seriously?!"

"Ja, sue me, it's pretty good." He shrugged, resigned to the fact that Toki was going to quiz him on it now.

"Why, though?

"Because... there isn't always someone to fuck you when you feel like it. That's pretty self-explanatory." Skwisgaar snapped with impatience born out of embarrassment.

"Holy shit." Toki whispered.

Completely blindsided about sex apart from his brush with frottage, he had no idea men could get fucked. His body temperature rose by several degrees as he pictured Skwisgaar in that context. 

Automatically shifting to allow room for his sudden erection, he was glad that Skwisgaar was 800 kilometres away and only able to see his face. He was going directly to hell if he died from sheer mortification right now.

"So now you know. Wish that you'd kept your mouth shut?"

"No, I like learning things." Toki mumbled.

"Alright. But listen, in the purely hypothetical situation that you would want to experiment with it..." Skwisgaar hesitated.

"Eh?"

He was glad that the crappy webcam image failed to show how badly his cheeks were burning.

"Start small and use lots of lube. Don't use anything that's not meant for it."

Toki had no intention of doing anything of the sort, but watching Skwisgaar talk about using sex toys and wanting to be fucked was incredibly arousing. Gawking at him, he tried to push away the image of sticking his dick inside Skwisgaar before he came in his pants.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, was there another reason you wanted to talk to me? Or did you just have a lot of burning questions about dildos?" Skwisgaar huffed.

"Ja, I eh..." He tried to swallow, but his mouth was incredibly dry. "How did it go yesterday?"

"Huh… I was actually fairly happy with how it went. The more gigs I play, the less nervous I get about it."

Thankfully, Skwisgaar switched topics without batting an eye.

"Why are you nervous at all? You never make any mistakes."

"I never make _audible_ mistakes. There's always a risk, however. I'm not somehow impervious to cocking up."

"I admire how you handle the pressure. I couldn't do it."

"Maybe not now, but I've got ten years on you."

"Still not sure if that is the right career for me. Magnus said I should go for it, but he doesn't know me."

"What did Magnus tell you?"

"That I should enrol in the full-time education."

"I would definitely back you if you wanted to." Skwisgaar offered. "Though you would have to step up your game where music theory is concerned."

"Ja, I guess. You think it would be too late after I get my degree?"

"Not if you keep improving at this rate. Twenty-one is not a bad age."

"Twenty-two, more likely."

"You have plenty of time to figure it out." Skwisgaar reassured him. "Are you ready for your exams?"

"Yeah. I'm glad it's only two subjects on Monday and Wednesday. The rest is scheduled in January, so I have a lot of time to prepare for those."

"Good. I think I'm going to have an early night. I'm travelling to Turku tomorrow, so..." He trailed off. "You got any nice plans this weekend?"

Probably spend a _lot_ of time on the internet and jack off until he saw stars.

"Eh, dinner at Murderface's tomorrow. It’s kind of weird how fast living with you is putting me off my old place. All that garbage and old crap everywhere."

"Ja, you have a high standard now." Skwisgaar said smugly.

"It's going to be rough when I move out." Toki joked.

"Then don't."

They looked at each other for a long moment, assessing.

"There are some things we need to talk about when I get home..." Skwisgaar broke the silence uncertainly, "but I would hate it if you left."

"I wish you were home already."

When Toki saw him again, he was going to hug him for days. And possibly kiss him, if he dared.

 

*******

**Notes**

Oh sleep, why dost thou leave me? Aria from Semele by Georg Friedrich Händel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9V4mvXAD2A

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Jeg er ikke klare til å reise." - I'm not ready to travel.

"Er det musikken eller er du nervøs?" - Is it the music or are you nervous?

"Jeg er lei for såre deg." - I'm sorry for hurting you.

Swedish

"Jag är kär i dig." - I'm in love with you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... what do you guys think of this so far? I realise this story demands a lot of the reader in terms of relating to the obscure setting, but I hope I managed to make it comprehensible. Also, there will be a little more metal in future chapters ;)  
> I got a couple of requests to add translation notes to Land of Snow and Sorrow, and while I have yet to get around to doing that, I did add them here. I hope that helps with the readability.


	12. Il padre adorato

Skwisgaar’s phone went off as he emerged from the shower with his hair dripping down his back. It was never a good sign when his mother called out of the blue, but he did not have to guess what she was calling about this time. Ever since he crossed the border into Sweden he had expected her to pull some sort of stunt, but it had been a bit of a wait so far. He answered the call, put his phone on speaker and tossed it onto the hotel bed.  

"Skwisgaar, listen, I know I promised to come see your concert in Göteborg, but something has come up...."

For all her phone calls about not seeing him enough, she never actually came through when he invited her to come see him. Serveta could try to be vague all she wanted, but he knew how matters stood. She was probably seeing some new random jack-off, and whoever she was fucking traditionally got priority over him.

He tried not to let the disappointment touch him, telling himself that he should not have expected anything different, but no matter how many times his mother let him down like this, it never hurt any less. It did not really help that his mom was the only family he had, as far as his need for attention was concerned. Perhaps if his asshole father would have stuck around after knocking up his mom things might have been different, but the realisation that he had done the same made him feel like he had no right to be sad about it either.

“All three of the performances, no doubt." He replied flatly, towelling his hair.

"Don't take that tone with me, Skwisgaar. I tried to get tickets for the other date I was available, but it was sold out. Don't pretend that I don't care about you, you know I do. I've always done everything in my power to make you happy." Serveta said with the indignation of someone who had been deluding herself on that topic for decades. 

Everything in her power, indeed. As far as Skwisgaar remembered, her libido and misplaced affections for one man after the next had always been the most important thing in her life, and the care for him had usually dangled somewhere at the bottom of her priority list. He did not recall a single time when she actually had come to support him in similar situations, even in his youth.

Challenging her to see if she was actually sincere, he said: "The first night in Oslo isn't sold out yet."

"Good. You know what? I'll come and see you play then." Serveta rose to the bait. "I'll come and stay with you for a few days, since you've never even invited me to your house. You can show me around the city - it will be fun."

"Sure, mom," he said.

He did not want her staying at his house, especially when he just got home after weeks on tour, but there was no real danger of her making good on her promises.

Just in case, he added: "If you promise to come alone. I am not playing host to any of your _dates_."

His mother tutted at the derisive way in which he pronounced the word, but she ceded the point.

"Fine," she said. "It's settled, then. I'm going to book later today."

"Looking forward to it." He could barely keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

The beep of an incoming message cut through the phone call.

 "I have to go. I need to get changed, and my tails are still at the dry cleaner, so... See you in Oslo, I guess."

Probably not.

"Yes, you do that. Good luck tonight, Skwisgaar."

"I don't need luck." He said sullenly as he stepped into his underwear. "I work too damn hard to have to rely on something as stupid as luck."

She would have known that, if she had actually paid attention to the things he told her every once in a while. Anyone who remotely knew him acknowledged that Skwisgaar Skwigelf did not half-ass things and relied solely on his own efforts to get where he wanted to be.

"You're such a difficult boy, still, Skwisgaar. I'm just trying to be nice. Sometimes I feel like you have no real connection to me. It’s like you're from a different planet or something. You never give me any credit for all the things I've always done for you..."

Recognising the standard formula soliloquy she was about to embark on, Skwisgaar cut her short.

"I need to go. Goodbye."

Hitting the end call button, he swiped to his text messages to see who it was.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_10 more days :D_

Toki had taken to counting down the days until the first concert in Oslo since everyone in their group of friends had decided they would come and see him play at Den Norske Opera that night. Though it did not make time go any faster, it was kind of nice to see how much Toki was looking forward to it.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_I want to skip right to it, but I guess I'm stuck with this for a while longer_

Taking his dress shirt out of the bag he had picked up at the dry cleaner's earlier that day - lying to Serveta was a second nature - he amended that statement in his mind.

It was not the entire truth. In a way, he never wanted the tour to end, because the longer it went on, the more he realised that he _was_ made for this. Returning to teaching where everyone pretty much loathed him was going to take some adjusting after the holidays. 

He loved the thrill of excitement that playing a successful recital in front of a packed concert hall offered, and though the papers giving his performances stellar reviews added to the mounting pressure and expectations, he would not have it any other way. His day job was indescribably dreary and dull in comparison, and like Toki had said after they had fallen out over his harsh methods, he was not a great teacher.

He needed the validation of being a successful concert pianist for his self-worth, to confirm that he had made the right choice by ruthlessly dedicating his life to his instrument. He had nothing else going for him.

Also looming at the horizon was the prospect of having to come clean to Toki, which had so much potential for disaster that he could not decide whether he wanted to put it off forever or get it over with already.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_You can do this, not long now :) Had a lot of fun with your Explorer today, btw._

_Watched a million tutorials and really got going. I love having a proper break from uni for once._

Skwisgaar vaguely wondered what Toki could do on guitar. If he was any good, perhaps they could try playing together some time.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Yeah, too bad I never got around to showing you like I promised.  Glad to hear you're caring for my instruments and having fun._

Re-doing the white bow-tie in front of the mirror he toyed with the idea of starting a metal band. Hadn’t Pickles said he played drums?

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Lol yeah I cleaned the piano yesterday too cause the keys were all sticky._

_To Toki Wartooth_

_What did you do to it_

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Think one of my kids had some candy before lessons or some shit like that_

Skwisgaar was more inclined to believe that Toki had given them some candy during the lessons. He had turned out to be great with kids after he got over that typical teenage phase where he was unsure if he was allowed to like them, and his little students loved him.

_To: Toki Wartooth_

_Ugh Toki you're really out to make me miss home today aren't you_

_Skype tomorrow? I have to go._

Shrugging into his coat, he glanced at his phone one last time before stepping out of his room.

_From: Toki Wartooth_

_Home misses you too, if it's any consolation._

_I'd love that. X_

He stared at the innocuous letter that ended Toki's message. That was new.

 

*******

"So, what are we shopping for?"

Abigail shouldered her purse as Toki fished for his keys to lock the door behind them.

"Eh, a bunch of things. I gots a list." He unfolded the paper he had torn from one of his notebooks. "A suits whats don'ts make me look like I's from 1895..."

Abigail giggled.

"Some boots... and some clothes whats actually fits." 

"That's doable, I guess. What’s the occasion?"

"Well, I gots some cash so I thoughts it was a good times to stop lookings like a hobo. I wear Skwisgaar's clothes all the time because mine keeps disappearing, but he's real talls."

"Yeah, living with him is not really a good enough reason to let him turn you into his mini-me." Abigail said as she held the wrought iron gate of the front yard open.

"Toki!" A voice called from across the street.

Looking around to locate the source, Toki spotted the remarkable face of his substitute teacher. Waiting for a car to slowly pass, Toki crossed to the other side to greet him, Abigail trailing in his wake.

"Hei Magnus, how are you?" He asked politely.

"Good, enjoying the break." Magnus gave a pointed look at the house they had just exited. "Nice place you've got there." He joked.

"I'm watching it for someone during the holidays." Toki brushed it off without going into specifics. "Well, I've got some stuff to do, so... see you in January, I guess!"

"Yeah, I think we have one or two lessons left, and then Mr Skwigelf comes back."

"Yeah, I can't wait! …to show you what I studied over the vacation." He barely recovered from being both rude and glaringly obvious.

"Alright, see you buddy." Magnus said as he turned to walk in the opposite direction.

"Come on, Toki, let's go spend some money! I know a nice place that sells good suits; I get mine there too.” Abigail hooked an arm through his.

The walk to the city centre seemed longer than usual with the slippery layer of old snow. His worn shoes were extremely unsuitable for this weather; he had been dreaming of combat boots ever since the snow had started falling.

"Dids you know Skwisgaar ams into boys?" Toki asked in his best casual voice.

Abigail snorted.

"He's into anything with a pulse."

"Yeah, I mean, I knew he amen'ts picky with goils from whats the others am always teasing him about..."

He knew Skwisgaar was supposed to be really into casual sex, but he had never actually seen him hook up with someone.

"It's true. In a way it's kind of nice that his taste doesn't exclude anyone, but I got impression he just did not allow himself to be picky enough, you know? I think it’s because he wants the idea of attention more than whoever is giving it to him."

"Oh."

Was that why he did not want Toki to leave? 

"Why did you ask?" Abigail nudged him.

"Just... makings conversation." He said hesitantly.

Actually he had meant to ask if she knew what kind of guys Skwisgaar was in to, but apparently that did not matter a whole lot.

"You're a terrible liar, Toki. Where were you going with this?" Abigail pried.

"You already answers the questions I was goings to ask..."

"Humour me."

"Whats kind of boys he am into." He murmured inaudibly.

"Something you want to tell me, Toki?" Abigail asked gleefully, peering at him from under her fluffy white hat.

"Not particularly."

"I think you're very much his type." Abigail giggled.

"Yeah, so's the rest of the woild." 

"I don't think you should let yourself be blindsided by that. So, how bad is it?" 

"Monumentally bads.” He lowered his voice. “Sodoms and Gomorra bads. I loves him to bits, and I wants to does things to him that Scripture forbids on penalties of death."

"Oh, Toki, you'd better let go of those backwards ideas as soon as possible for your sanity's sake. Is this the first time you're in love?"

The flame of a Bunsen burner glinting in grey eyes in the chemistry lab.

"First times in years." 

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"I don'ts know! Snogs him and hope he won'ts be offended? I never trieds to make a moves on anyone before, let alone a guys like Skwisgaar."

"Oh, come on! What do you even mean by that?"

"Someone who ams my superiors in everything, who ams ten years older and freakins breath-taking..."

Abigail led him into a small store with racks upon racks of suits. She briefly instructed one of the store's employees, and continued their talk while Toki had his measurements taken.

"You can't compare yourself to him like that, it's pointless."

"Yeah, I knows I’ms not like him in a lots of-"

The guy with the measuring tape led him towards a rack with the smaller sizes.

"What colour are you looking for?"

"Black. I like black. Just black everything." Toki shrugged.

"Alright... try this one, it's a size 48. You might need a 49 for your shoulders, but put this on first." He instructed.

The guy caught up to him with a black dress shirt and a tie at the fitting room. Habit made Toki want to ask for help tying the tie, but recalling Skwisgaar's meticulous tutorial, he managed to do it himself quite satisfactorily. Abigail leaned against the door, citing reasons he should not worry about not measuring up to Skwisgaar's achievements.

"...need to wrap your head around the fact that you are a catch in your own right. You're a lovely guy; you're smart and caring-"

Buttoning up the jacket, Toki stepped outside.

"Did I mention you're hot?" She said as she looked him up and down with a whistle. "You need to use that to your advantage."

"I'm goings to need a manuals on that." Toki said, accepting a different size jacket from the guy, who had decided he did need the room for his shoulders.

"Dressing well is a step in the right direction." The shop assistant cut in with a wink.

"Or undressing," Abigail said under her breath, earning a sage nod.

Two hours later, Abigail threw him and exasperated look in the army surplus while she waited by a pile of bags.

"Honestly, Toki, if you're going to wear clothes and boots like that you're going to have to let me trim the uneven bits of your hair. Otherwise you'll still look like a hobo."

"You gots the deal!" Toki said without taking his eyes off his prize.

 

*******

Toki took a small eternity to answer his request for a video chat as always, but Skwisgaar had nothing else to do but moon over him, so he waited witha degree of impatience. When the black feed expanded and Toki came into focus, Skwisgaar caught a flash of his bare chest before he darted away from his laptop.

"Abigails, haves you seen my shirts? It was just sittings here on this chair!" Toki shouted in English.

The sound of Abigail's muffled voice did not carry clearly enough through the speakers of Toki's laptop for Skwisgaar to make out what she was saying. Eventually, Toki appeared again, flopping down in a chair, still shirtless, with his wet, stringy hair all over the place.

"Hei," he said breathlessly. "Abigails just cuts my hairs," he twisted one of the strands around his finger with an adorable pout, "and now I'm missing half my clothes as well as an inch of hair."

"Hei Toki." Skwisgaar tried not to ogle him, but he had not had the pleasure to eye Toki's lean, well-developed upper body lately. "Better go along with whatever she tells you, there's no way you can win."

His finger automatically crept towards the print screen button on his laptop, and while he felt like garbage saving a screenshot, he knew he would regret it if he did not. God damn he looked hot like this.

"Cans you please close the doors? I’ms freezings!" Toki called to Abigail as he shivered, gooseflesh rising all over his skin.

One glance at Toki’s cording muscles and taut nipples was all it took to get hard, the heat of arousal and subsequent embarrassment flushing his skin. 

"You look pretty hot to me," Skwisgaar muttered under his breath, freezing when he realised he had said it out loud.

Toki made a surprised sound and smiled to himself, eyes downcast but visibly pleased.

"Guess I can tough it out, in that case." He mumbled, subconsciously sitting a little straighter. "How was... eh..." He ran a hand through his hair. "...Stockholm last night?"

"Huh..." Skwisgaar tore his eyes away to focus on answering the question. "Playing went… okay, I guess. Konserthuset has great acoustics, and I didn't cock up anything, but… not as good as I could be. It was just one of those days. I also saw some old teachers and acquaintances from my time at the conservatory afterwards, and their envy and all the grudges were pretty obvious under their backhanded compliments. What a bunch of dildos. Also my mom called to blow me off right before I had to go on-"

"Wowee, I really don't get your mother! She's so out for herself all the time. She doesn't even stop to consider how what she does affects you." Toki commented with indignation.

"Yeah, and the worst thing is, she completely denies everything when you try to confront her with that. I have to listen to her bullshit whenever she's lonely enough to have to resort to talking to me, but she drops me as soon as she's got something better."

"That's stupid. I don't know what could possibly be better." Toki said softly.

Skwisgaar was unsure what to say to that. Toki was doing that thing again where it was impossible to tell if he was just being sincere and emotional or trying to flirt, so Skwisgaar gave him a strained smile.

“So yeah, coming to Stockholm I'd sort of expected to have to deal with some bullshit, but..."

"If you were here I'd hug you so hard." Toki said with his big, sad eyes. "I sort of know what you mean. It’s so lonely when your parents don’t give shit about the things that are important to you. Sort of makes you feel like you don’t matter as a person."

Toki hit the nail on its head. His mother’s tendency to bring an endless string of guys to their home always made Skwisgaar feel insignificant - like he wasn’t enough.

"Ugh, you don't know how many times I wished my mom could stay with one guy, or lay off on the screwing around. It almost worked one time, you know? There was a woodworker named Týr, who cared about my mom a lot - and for me too, in a way. He put up with a lot of shit to make it work; adultery from my mom, my adolescent attitude..."

"What happened?"

"Týr and I got along after a while; he was a good man and role model. My mom broke him eventually, though, when he walked in on her cheating with two guys one day. Pffft, thanks a lot, mom."

After Týr left, Skwisgaar had gone down the same path as his mother, endlessly trying to fuck his loneliness away without ever being able to make a meaningful connection.

"Oh no, that's so sad." Toki looked crestfallen. "What about your real dad?" He asked out of the blue.

Skwisgaar had never talked to anyone about this before, and to his surprise it still got to him after all this time.

"I've got no idea who he is. When I was younger I begged and begged my mom to tell me, but she wouldn't. Now I'm not even sure she knows at all. Kind of weird to think you're just the unwanted by-product of some random fuck."

"Wow, no, stop. You're not allowed to think of yourself like that."

"It is what it is, Toki." He chided gently.

"But you can't allow that to define you!" Toki protested vehemently. "How you came into existence is irrelevant in the face of what you decide to do with the time you were given."

"Beneath all the classical music and pretentiousness I'm still trash, Toki. You've seen how I treat people. I'm just as much a self-centred asshole as my mom."

"Permit me to disagree." Toki stuck out his tongue as he repeated Skwisgaar's standard objection back to him.

"You haven't known me all that long. You don't know what a mess I've made in the past."

"I don't care about that. You are good to me and you deserve to be appreciated for that."

"Yeah, listen to Toki, you angsty Swede." Abigail came into view, cutting into their conversation. Apparently she was well enough versed in Norwegian to listen in on them, but she still addressed them in English. "There's plenty of people who love you even though you're a bag of dicks sometimes. It's called being human."

She winked and ran a hand over Toki's hair.

"I'm going home. You owe me one shopping session whenever I feel like it. I had fun, sweetie. Bye Skwisgaar, see you soon!"

Abigail blew him a kiss and disappeared from view. Moments later a blue t-shirt hit Toki in the head.

"You went shopping with Abigail?" Skwisgaar asked, amused.

"Yeah, you're not the only one trying to rise above being perceived as trash." Toki grinned, pulling on the shirt. "Look at my awesome boots."

He disappeared for a minute, returning with a pair of combat boots that were a sight better than his old sheepskin shoes. Holding them in front of the webcam, he beamed.

"These make me very happy."

"I'll bet they look great on you." Skwisgaar said.

"Yeah, and apparently so does my new suit."

"You've got to show me that, too."

"The jacket is still being tailored, but I guess you'll see it soon enough!"

"Hardly. It's still over a week. The days are so fucking long, especially when I'm not playing at night." Skwisgaar complained.

"I'll do my best to entertain you in the meantime! Except for the day after tomorrow, because there's a chance my mom's coming over if my dad will let her."

"Oh, that's alright, I'll be on the road then, anyway." He leaned back in his chair and smirked. "So, how did you plan to entertain me?"

It was extremely hard to keep his mind out of the gutter at this point, but Toki was oblivious as usual.

"Eh, I could show you what I learned to do on guitar? Maybe that will be good for a laugh."

"Cool, show me."

Toki disappeared again, dragging first the amplifier and then the Explorer down the stairs. He launched into something that sounded like early nineties Mayhem.

"Don't tell me you're into Norwegian black metal now." Skwisgaar said with mock-disapproval.

"What if I am?" Toki narrowed his eyes defensively. "Besides, this is the only thing I can play yet. Wintersun is hardly attainable for me at this point." 

"You'll get there, with some practice. I'm actually impressed you learned this in such a short time. Keep it up and we can start a metal band." Skwisgaar said encouragingly.

"Can we? Holy shit! That would be the most awesome thing ever!" Toki exclaimed. "I'm going to go practice some more, see you!"

"Hei. Don't forget about your piano. I am coming back and I will kick your ass if you started sucking under Magnus' sloppy supervision."

Toki opened his mouth, thought better of it, and nodded.

"See you, Toki, Have fun."

Ending the chat and opening the screenshot folder with guilt on his mind, he jumped when he got a text message.

_From: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_I hope you got a nice long look. You're welcome, by the way._

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_You sets him up? Thanks you now I feels like a total perverts._

_From: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_That's because you are. xD I wouldn't worry about it too much though._

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_Why whats you mean_

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_You should hear what he's been thinking about you. Happy fapping._

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_Tells me everythings rights now!_

It remained silent on Abigail’s side. With her last comment in mind, Skwisgaar’s imagination ran wild. He put his laptop aside and let his fantasies take over. After briefly debating whether he should get undressed and dig up a plug and some lube, decided to just shove his pyjama pants down and get it over with. He imagined getting Toki naked and manoeuvring him onto the edge of the bed by his waist, touching himself with light, teasing strokes. Kneeling between Toki’s legs, he would brace his hands on his hips before taking the tip of his cock in his mouth. Toki would arch his back and buck up or maybe tangle a hand in his hair to push his head further down, fucking his mouth with abandon until-

" _Skit_."

He should have grabbed a towel first.

 

*******

**Notes**

Il padre adorato. Ritrovo, e lo perdo - The beloved father, found and lost again. Aria from Idomeneo by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Yqhg1lLfM0


	13. Endless pleasure

For the first time in weeks, nerves crept back into Skwisgaar's system as he prepared in his dressing room backstage at Den Norske Opera. As soon as he had gotten on the bus to leave Bergen he had become a little jittery, and it had gotten progressively worse during the journey to the capital, growing into the faint nausea undulating in his gut now. His pride did not allow him to make this anything but his best performance; he knew people here, it was his home town, and he wanted it to be perfect. It was the presence of those people, however, that might make it harder to concentrate.

"You look a little nervous, Skwisgaar," Dick Knubbler remarked after a short briefing. "Is that going to be a problem?"   

"No, I'ms fine."

It was going to be alright. He had the backing of weeks of experience to get him through this now, and regardless of what could happen, he knew he could bring this to a successful end. He had come a long way since his first night of the tour in Moscow, where he had been driving himself mad with perfectionism and the fear of failure. Keeping up a confident facade in front of his contacts at the Helikon Opera Theatre had taken so much out of him that he had broken down in tears in the privacy of his dressing room, convinced that he was unable to do it. Eventually, Knubbler had walked in, talked some sense into him and shoved him out the door.

Wiping away his frustrated tears and the perspiration beading in his hairline he had faced the packed concert hall with a straight back, though his hands shook. The nervous sweat breaking out under his hot formal wear had made them clammy, and he had sat in front of the piano wiping his hands on his slacks and feeling out the keys for longer than necessary before he started playing.

It had taken most of the first sonata for him to forget about the audience and his fear to slip up or play less than his ultimate best, but once he had let go of the detrimental negativity, it had been close to a religious experience. He had lost himself in the music and the movement of his hands so deeply that the applause at the end of the recital had startled him out of a trance-like state. Bewildered, he had almost stumbled over the bench when he had gotten up to a standing ovation, his soaked hair falling forward as he gave a jerky bow. When he regained his bearing, he could not help but smile, because he had done it; he had taken his empty, dead end existence and transformed it into what he had wanted it to be. It had taken him almost twenty years, but his hard work had paid off, and he was proud of himself, finally.

Tonight, in Oslo, he might even have a chance of ending the pervasive loneliness that had haunted his steps for so long. After the concert he was going to see Toki, and once he would come home he was going to talk to him, tell him everything, and hope for the best. He was more nervous about that than his performance, come to think of it.

He could dream his parts, his muscle memory enough to get him through the recital even if his concentration couldn't. Running a hand through his curls, he shrugged into his tails. He was not sweating today, but his heartbeat was working up enough speed to make him short of breath as he walked into the bright but soft lights on stage.

The sound of polite applause was punctuated by hooting noises and whistling, and he spotted his friends at the centre of the concert hall by grace of Nathan's raised devil horns. Suppressing a smirk, he turned to the audience to give them a shallow bow. Raking his eyes across his friends seated side by side, he located Toki between Nathan and Abigail. Nothing had prepared him for the sight of Toki's radiant smile so close he could almost feel it. Only the eyes of approximately two thousand people kept him from leaping down the stage and throwing himself at his feet. 

Seating himself behind the grand piano, ignoring his reflection in its high gloss finish, he chanced another look at the audience. That was when he caught sight of a provocative red dress. His mother was here.

*******

"We should have gotten you new shoes as well," Abigail commented as Toki tied his well-worn dress shoes underneath his suit.

"No ways, you haves any idea how long it take for these kinds of shoe to starts beings comfortable?" Toki replied.

His shoes looked perfectly acceptable after a good polishing, and being able to walk in them was worth something, too.

"You spent so much time obsessing about how you look today, and you're fine with those shoes?" Abigail shook her head in amusement.

"Fussings about shoes ams gay."

"Newsflash: you are gay," She countered.

"Okay. Fussings about shoes ams for ladies."

Abigail gave him a look that said she was having none of his bigoted bullshit.

"... I personally don'ts give a shits about shoes?" He tried again.

"Better. Let's go, we don't want to be late and make all the elderly people get up from their seats to let us get to ours." She winked.

They met up with Nathan, Pickles and Murderface outside the opera house. Most of them had made an effort to look respectable, but Murderface seemed to have a different take on formal wear than the rest of them. Toki barked a laugh at his outfit, which had apparently been compiled of elements that said business above and party below the waist. At first he thought Murderface was wearing the same boots-and-shorts combination he usually wore underneath a suit jacket, but upon close inspection these shorts were actually the cut off woollen slacks that went with the jacket.

They arrived at their seats early enough not to have to bother any old people to get to them, and Nathan passed around candy, which Toki had to decline due to the sheer excitement he had been living off for a couple of days now. It filled him up to the point where there was hardly room for food. He was finally going to see Skwisgaar play tonight, and they were going to go home together since the remainder of the concerts were in the city. Unsure how to handle a situation where he and Skwisgaar would be alone in the same room, he hoped to be brave enough to at least try something. If Skwisgaar did not return his feelings the way Toki hoped, it was probably better to get that out in the open as soon as possible.

"Are you exited to see him again?" Abigail pried for the tenth time that day.

"How does it looks?!" He asked sarcastically.

"You look like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, to be honest. The only thing I'm missing is a wagging tail and open-mouthed panting." She snickered, and Nathan whined like a dog on his other side.

"Hei!" He nudged her gently in the side. "Mights be a goods strategies, though. I gots him to pet me once by pretendings I was a cats."

"Oh god, Toki, you are too precious for this world," Abigail threw back her head and laughed out loud, drawing confused looks from the gentlemen in the row in front of them.

"Yeah, he gaves me whiskers with a pens and everythings." Toki grinned, remembering.

He had not realised at the time that the reason he wanted so much attention from Skwisgaar was because he wanted him, period, and he could not help but wonder if that realisation was going to bring an end to their spontaneous interaction. It would be such a shame if things were going to be all awkward between them now. The rustle of people sitting up straight and applauding brought an end to his thoughts.

Skwisgaar entered the stage with long strides and his head held high. After a period of seeing him mostly in hoodies, messy ponytails and glasses through a grainy webcam, Toki's heart stopped for a moment when he saw him in full formal dress with his pale curls flowing freely down his back. Abigail gave him a sympathetic look as he bit back a noise of longing. He did not recall ever seeing anything as remotely attractive as the way Skwisgaar looked tonight.

"Poor baby..." She whispered. "He's something else, isn't he?"

He watched with open mouth as Skwisgaar incline his head at the crowd. Skwisgaar did not look humble in the least as he made his obeisance, his majestic grace making him seem more like a benevolent god favouring them with his presence. His eyes flitted towards them when Pickles catcalled him and Nathan raised rock-hands in the air, and when their gazes met by chance Toki fancied he saw his own want reflected there. Turning on his heel, Skwisgaar got comfortable behind the piano, adjusting his tails so he would not be hindered in his movements.

There was a barely noticeable hitch when he glanced back at the crowd, and the way he intoned the first chords sounded, hesitant, unbalanced. Toki knew it was not intentional, but somehow it served to bring more emotion to the grave piece he opened with. During the first movement he made a small mistake, missing two notes in a triad, but Toki doubted anyone who had not heard him play this same concert a hundred times before in their living room would have heard it. The stubborn clench of his jaw between the first two sonatas signified Skwisgaar was going to step up his game. Closing his eyes, he shut out the world. It was just him and the piano now, his brilliance shining unfettered by whatever had caught him off guard in the first place. The flow of his deliberate but organic movement was in perfect harmony with the evocative music rising from the grand piano and washing over the audience like a tidal wave, and Toki sat stunned until people rising around him marked the end of the concert. Abigail pulled him up by his elbow to join the standing ovation as Skwisgaar stood up from behind his instrument to acknowledge the praise with another measured bow.

"Skwisgaar!" Nathan bellowed, his applause like an oncoming thunderstorm. "You did it, you dildo!"

"Great jahb ye dooshbag!" Pickles hooted on his other side.

Their voices broke Skwisgaar's composure. He let out a relieved laugh as he bowed again, deeper this time, brushed his hair out of his face and disappeared off stage. 

Toki felt Abigail squeeze his hand as she toted him to the lobby behind the rest of the gang, the excitement building in him as his brain washed adrenaline through his system. They were going to be face to face in a minute after weeks apart, and he was about to burst with bottled up affection. Pickles gave him a grin as he noticed Toki tucking his trembling hands away by folding his arms.

"Hey, here he comesch." Murderface put down his beer and waved Skwisgaar over.

Nathan punched Skwisgaar on the arm a little harder than he intended out of sheer excitement, and Abigail ruffled his hair while heaping praise about his performance. Awkwardly extricating himself from their attention Skwisgaar acknowledged Pickles and Murderface’s raised glasses with a nod. 

Toki watched him approach. The vulnerable look on Skwisgaar’s face when he tried for a smile rooted Toki to the spot for a moment, but, unable to hold back, he threw his arms around him. Skwisgaar let out a surprised noise at the impact, but his arms enveloped Toki’s shoulders.

"Hei, lille Toki," He murmured.

Toki looked up. Skwisgaar's face was angled towards his, in perfect position to be kissed.

Did he dare?

His heart thudded in his throat as he gathered his courage -

"Skwisgaar, säga hej till din mamma." Came a vaguely familiar, sultry drawl.  

The arms around him tightened briefly before letting him go, and Toki stepped back a respectable distance to allow room for Skwisgaar's mother. 

"Hallå mor, detta är en överraskning..." Skwisgaar said stiffly.

Clearly he had not expected Serveta.

"Amen'ts you goings to introduce me to you friends?" She levelled a leer at Nathan.

Waving his arm around, Skwisgaar indicated them.

"Moidaface, Pickle, Nathans, Abigails... and this am Toki. Toki, kan jeg snakke med deg for et øyeblikk?"

Toki followed him a short distance to a niche.

"Huh... I hadn't expected my mom to actually show up, so I did not tell you..." Skwisgaar said, looking flustered. "but she wants to stay over for a couple of days."

"Wowee, she came through, that's lovely! So... how can I help?"

Toki racked his brain. Did this mean he was supposed to go and sleep somewhere else tonight? If he knew Skwisgaar, he wasn't about to bunk with his mom, nor would Toki stand for having a middle-aged woman sleep on the couch.

"Shit, I don't know. I need to stow her somewhere for the night, but..."

"I could ask if I can stay over with one of the other guys."

"No! Don't… don't leave me alone with that woman." Skwisgaar pulled a face.

"Let's just put your mom up in the guest room, then, and I'll take the couch." Toki suggested. "It'll work out fine."

Taking a deep breath, Skwisgaar nodded.

"I'm so sorry about this. She normally never comes through with this kind of crap."

"Cheer up! Your mom came all the way from Kiruna to see you, you should be happy."

"You don't know my mom."

"Give her the chance to do right by you for once." Toki said as he tentatively laid a hand on Skwisgaar's forearm.

The promise of the kiss Toki did not dare to give him yet hung heavy in the air between them as Skwisgaar's eyes followed his arm up to his face.

"Alright." Skwisgaar said.

"You want to go back?" Toki jerked his head in the direction of their friends. "I'll bet everyone will want to hear about your travels!"

"Pfffft, we'd better go back before my mom seduces one of our friends and _she_ ends up at their place tonight."

 

*******

They wound up staying at Den Norske Opera a lot longer than planned. Seeing his friends again after so long was great, but as they got progressively drunker, he had to make an effort to keep his mother from doing the same. Toki stayed sober as well, and whether that was out of solidarity or because he still had not gotten the hang of drinking yet, Skwisgaar appreciated it all the same. When everybody but the two of them was seeing cross-eyed, Skwisgaar gave up all pretence and allowed himself to stare at him.

Toki had not exaggerated; his new suit looked great on him. The sharp cut accentuated the angles of his body beautifully, and its black colour set off his pale complexion. Glancing at their friends, Skwisgaar noted that Nathan and Abigail were eye-fucking each other over the unholy amount of wineglasses littering the table between them, Pickles was spacing out next to Nathan and Murderface was off to take a piss somewhere. His mother had thankfully wandered off to flirt with someone her own age when she had been unsuccessful with Skwisgaar's friends.

Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to do some flirting of his own. Stepping up to Toki, he thumbed the material of his jacket.

"Du hadde rett, it's a good suit. It looks very nice on you."

"Takk," Toki mumbled with a shy smile. "Abigail helped me pick. She has good taste."

"Ja." Caught up in Toki's eyes, he could not find anything else to say.

"I loved your performance." Toki said, averting his gaze. "Missing out on your playing for weeks made it extra special to hear you again."

"I'm glad to hear that. It wasn't the-"

"Hello Skwisgaar, congratulations on a great recital."

The raspy voice of Magnus Hammersmith interrupted their conversation. Taking a step back from Toki, Skwisgaar shook his proffered hand.

"Thanks you, Magnus. And thanks again for teachings my students. Dat ams very magnanimous of you - I knows you busy, too."

"Don't mention it. Hey Toki, how are you?" Magnus lowered his gaze to their student.

"Pretty goods, thanks." Toki said politely, but there was annoyance in his narrowed eyes.

To make things extra awkward, Serveta chose that moment to reappear, giving Magnus a come-hither look.

"Moms," Skwisgaar intervened. "this ams my colleague from de consorvatories, Magnus Hammersmith. Minns du vad du lovade?"

"Ja visst!" She replied guiltily. "Don't worry about it."

Magnus fucked off relatively quickly after that, citing tiredness, and Skwisgaar was overcome by the desire to sleep a good long while in his own bed.

"We shoulds goes home, too," he said to his mother and Toki, "I'ms tired as hell."

"Ja, mine journey ams was quite tirings as well." Serveta agreed.

"How dids you travels here, Miss Skwigelf?" Toki asked her.

"By cars. If you gives to me directions I drops you off at you home, if you wants."

"Huh, he am comings with us, moms..." Skwisgaar said. "Toki live with me."  

"Oh?" Serveta turned to look Toki up and down, assessing. "How comes you never tells me these things, Skwisgaar?"

"Is quite a long stories," Toki cut in. "I tells you later, if you like?"

Serveta seemed satisfied with that prospect, so Skwisgaar ignored her question entirely, following her to her car. Toki kept up a steady stream of small talk until they arrived at the house, happily questioning his mother about every trivial aspect of her journey to Oslo. He easily navigated his way through boring shit Skwisgaar never cared to talk about, like how the roads had been and how she liked Norway so far.

Getting out of the car, it hit Skwisgaar how much of a missed opportunity it was not to be able to get Toki alone tonight, and he silently glowered at his mother's back. What a dumb idea to invite her over to Oslo just to bait her.

His mother was reasonably impressed with how well he had done for himself, judging by her compliments on his house as he grudgingly showed her around. Toki made them tea and brought Serveta a glass of wine, continuing his conversation with her by asking innocent questions about Kiruna and her daily life there.

"I think we all goes to beds now?" Toki hung his suit jacket over a chair and glanced at his phone. "Is pretties lates. If you follows me, Ms Skwigelf, I shows to you where you sleeps."

They disappeared up the stairs, leaving Skwisgaar behind in the living room. Toki had kept it neat; not sterile like Skwisgaar did when he lived alone, but clean and mostly clutter free. Finding Toki’s laptop and study books sitting in a neat pile on the table and his scores on the music rack of the piano made for a better homecoming than Skwisgaar could have imagined before he met Toki.

 Taking his own bag upstairs with the intention to change out of his tails, he overheard Toki talking to his mother inside the spare bedroom.

"... probably real glads you cames to sees him, Miss Skwigelf, even though he don'ts says it."

"Whats a sweet boy you ams, Toki." Serveta purred. "You sures you wants to sleep on dat couch? I coulds makes some rooms for you in heres, if you knows whats I means."

Skwisgaar froze with his foot hovering over the landing, outrage flaring up in his chest at his mother's gall to try and steal Toki right from under his nose.

"Eh... I don'ts knows how to tells you this, but... I'ms gay." Toki rushed the last words after a moment's hesitation, as if he had never uttered them before. 

Perhaps he never had, seeing that even Skwisgaar had no idea he identified as such. Now that he did, however, it transformed the anxiety he had about confessing his feelings into something more akin to nervous anticipation.

"Naturligtvis, I mights have knowns." His mother laughed. "You's too cute not to be."

Toki echoed her soft laugh.

"I hopes you sleeps well, Ms Skwigelf."

"God natt, Toki."

The sound of a door closing startled Skwisgaar back into motion. As he crossed paths with Toki on the landing, he mouthed 'How do you do that?' simultaneously in awe and annoyed about how successfully Toki interacted with his mother.

"Hedre din far og din mor, så dine dager må bli mange i det land Herren din Gud gir dig. Exodus 20:12." Toki quoted with a straight face.

"And what if I don't believe in fairy tales?" He asked, more cynical than he intended.

"We've been over this," Toki said, unperturbed. "If you won't try to see past the 'fairy tale' to discern the message of hope and love, then don't. But that's how it works for me, and that's why I will always try to see the best in people. Love is so much more fulfilling than hate. You should try it some time."

He was wise beyond his years in some ways, and Skwisgaar let himself be lectured by a nineteen year-old because he recognised Toki as his superior in this area.

"I know what it's like to love."

He bored his eyes into Toki's, willing him to read the confession there.

"Good for you." Toki shrugged, then softened his attitude. "Hey, can I have your spare pillow for the couch? I think I'm turning in as well."

"Come sleep in my bed." Skwisgaar blurted out before he could stop himself. "I mean, when I said I know - I meant - Shit. Forgive me, Toki."

Toki searched his face, thoughts churning behind his stormy eyes. Deliberately setting his fear of rejection aside, Skwisgaar allowed his longing to show.

"What were you going to say, Skwisgaar?"

Toki's gentle question extracted the confession from him quite painlessly.

"I'm in love with you, Toki. Have been for a while." He admitted, voice hoarse.

Toki sighed and smiled shyly.

"What a coincidence."

Subconsciously holding his breath, Skwisgaar watched him step closer. A surprisingly strong hand gripped the back of his neck as Toki stood on his toes to press his lips against Skwisgaar's mouth. There was a beat where they just stood there, lip locked, Toki's rapid breathing the only sound, before Skwisgaar crushed him against his chest.

How he had managed without the feel of Toki in his arms so far was a mystery, because now that he did, it was as if his whole life simply clicked in place. Their difference in age and status became instantly irrelevant with reciprocation. It was alright like this - more than alright.

Threading his fingers in Toki's hair, he no longer had to mask the intention behind his touch as he poured out his affection. Unable to decide if he wanted to keep kissing Toki or if he wanted to endlessly profess his love for him, he leaned forward so Toki could reach better without stretching on his toes. Yielding his mouth to enthusiastic exploring, he forgot about talking altogether. They could get on a level like this just fine, with hands and lips and tongues.

Toki's hands mapped every inch of his upper body through his layers of clothes, endlessly curious, and Skwisgaar could not get enough of his touch, nor the feel of Toki's back under his own hands. Realising that he no longer had to wonder what Toki's skin felt like, his hands crept down to his waist. Halfway through the process of impatiently pulling Toki's dress shirt out of his pants his mind sputtered something about privacy and the presence of his mother across the hall, stilling his movements. Breaking away from Toki's mouth he tried to be the voice of reason.

"Grab your stuff, let's go to my room."

The naked desire on his face was both a promise and a warning, and Toki took it in stride.

"Ja," he panted, looking a little disoriented. "I will."

Picking up his sweats and clean underwear where he had dropped them, Toki trailed him to his bedroom, unsure what to do once Skwisgaar locked the door behind them. In that moment, he looked awfully young. He had probably never gone beyond kissing anyone.

"Come here," Skwisgaar said, and Toki came to him.

As Toki surrendered his trust and offered himself up, the need to take care of him in a way that was worthy of the gift he was being given pervaded Skwisgaar's being. With his senses geared towards picking up Toki's every reaction, he began undressing him.

Toki watched with a mixture of fascination and want, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide, as Skwisgaar tried to steady his hands enough to undo the tie and the tiny buttons on his dress shirt. Laying bare his smooth chest, Skwisgaar lightly ran his fingers across Toki's pectoral muscles, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

"Du er så vakker," he breathed, "og jeg har ønsket deg så lenge."

Toki blushed, but he seemed pleased to hear it. His hands rose to Skwisgaar's throat to mirror his actions, discarding his white bow-tie and vest with a dexterity born out of need.

Bending down to kiss him again, Skwisgaar ran his hands further underneath his open shirt, feeling out ribs, defined muscle and shoulder blades. Toki's response was ravenous, but trailed off when he could not focus on undoing Skwisgaar's shirt at the same time.

"Not fair," Toki pouted, fumbling with the button at his throat.

"I'll help." Skwisgaar offered, starting on the bottom ones.

Toki swatted his hands away when they reached the remaining button at the same time, and Skwisgaar hummed in amusement at his assertiveness as Toki pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Pulling the cuffs over his hands, something caught his eye, and he straightened up, tossing the shirt on the pile of abandoned clothes.

"What's this?" Toki breathed, trailing a delicate finger across a pierced nipple.

The tentative touch sent a jolt through Skwisgaar's stomach, his already half-hard cock swelling in the tight confines of his underwear.

"Huh, just piercings..."

He was surprised that Toki never noticed the spiked barbells before, but then again, he did not exactly run around shirtless a lot in winter.

"Wowee, does this hurt?" Toki asked as he ran his thumbs across both nipples in synchronised movement.

Biting back a moan, Skwisgaar shook his head.

"No, that's really good..." He admitted quietly.

With a wicked glint in his eye, Toki lowered his mouth to one of them, his wet tongue probing to see what would happen. The sensitivity of Toki's mouth on his skin had him gasping, and Toki smiled smugly before plying his tongue on the other side. Skwisgaar clutched him tight, kissing the top of his head. Toki's eager initiative was absolutely wonderful.  

"This is fun," Toki said gleefully after making him moan by biting softly. "I could do this all night."

"The hell you will," Skwisgaar said, tilting Toki's head back up for a rough kiss. "Do you mind?" He asked, opening Toki's belt.

Shaking his head, Toki took it as an invitation to rid him of his slacks as well, knuckles deliberately brushing up and down the length of his erection through his underwear a couple of times before moving on. Toeing off his socks, Skwisgaar got down on his knees at Toki's feet, wrapping his arms around his legs and kissing the tender skin of his stomach. Fingers raked his hair, twitching against his scalp with anticipation as he took hold of Toki's waistband and pulled down his underwear.

"Tell me if I'm going too fast."

"Noted," Toki panted.

It was Toki's turn to make involuntary noises as Skwisgaar wrapped his hand around the base of the hard and heavy cock curving up against his flat stomach. Well-proportioned like everything else about Toki's athletic body, Skwisgaar eyed it appreciatively before mouthing wet kisses along the length of it. Hips jerking violently, Toki pressed himself tighter against Skwisgaar's mouth. His loss of self-control made Skwisgaar's cock twitch in sympathy, precome leaking down its head and soaking into the fabric of his underwear. Unwilling to torment Toki any longer, he took him in his mouth.

"Åh," Toki exclaimed at the sensory overload, and Skwisgaar rubbed his free hand reassuringly along his thigh.

The fingers in his hair tightened when his mouth slid further down, wrapping his lips tightly and pushing his tongue against the underside of Toki's cock. Picking up a steady pace had Toki sighing and twitching in his grasp, and when he began bucking and mewling, Skwisgaar pulled away.

"You want to come now or fuck me later?" He asked, watching Toki's eyes widen at what he offered.

"Both. I can do both." His answer came in gasps.

"Sounds promising..." Skwisgaar murmured against his taut abdomen, sucking the visibly throbbing erection back into his mouth.

With one hand on Toki's ass, he used his other to palm his own hard-on through the soft cotton still trapping it, which was barely enough to allay any of the urgency pooling in his gut. Nails dug into his shoulder when Toki neared his climax, the other hand rubbing small circles on his cheekbone, and Skwisgaar vaguely wondered how someone could be this hot and adorable at the same time.

Toki bit out 'oh god oh god' over and over, trailing of on an incoherent moan as he came in Skwisgaar's mouth. Semen hit his palate in thick spurts, and Toki convulsed in his grasp. Swallowing with difficulty, Skwisgaar licked him clean until he stopped shaking and the trembling hand fell away from his head. He rested his forehead against Toki’s stomach for a moment, savouring the feel of having his love in his arms, thrumming with satisfaction at having pleased him.

Toki was happy to be led to the bed and sprawl on top of him while he recovered, occasional sighs of pleasure escaping him as Skwisgaar ran his hands across his back, his ass, his thighs.

Rubbing himself against Toki's stomach in an attempt to give his borderline painful erection some relief, Skwisgaar had a hard time staving off coming until Toki would fuck him.

"I've never felt this good before..." Toki mumbled as Skwisgaar ran a hand through his hair.

"I could work on making that your new standard, if you want."

"Yes please." Toki sighed, then fell silent as he craned his neck to lap at Skwisgaar's nipple with his tongue.

"Toki..." He groaned, enveloping his small waist with his hands to grind against him harder.

"I'm on it." Toki huffed, adjusting himself as his cock stiffened against Skwisgaar's leg.

Rutting mindlessly against each other, they kissed at an uncomfortable angle, hot, slick mouths sliding until Skwisgaar could not bear it any longer. Throwing back his head, he begged.

"Toki, vær så snill..." 

Smiling, Toki wiggled out of his grasp to sit up and inexpertly tug his underwear off. His aching cock slapped against his stomach as it sprang free from the material, and Toki mumbled an apology.

"Are you ready for this?" Skwisgaar asked, meeting Toki's glazed eyes.

Toki nodded gravely and awaited further instruction, breathing hard through swollen and parted lips. Coating Toki’s cock with a layer of lube, Skwisgaar pulled him close for a slow kiss, swallowing Toki's sounds of pleasure as he spread the cool substance with deft strokes. Toki followed him down when he lay back and let his legs fall open, kneeling between them with nervousness and desire chasing across his face. 

"Hvordan gjør jeg dette?" Toki asked in a small voice.

"How is up to you, just do what feels good and promise me you won't hold back. Here..."

His hand between their bodies aligned them properly. Bracing his arms on Skwisgaar's sides, Toki pushed forward ineffectively.

"Like you mean it." He panted against the pressure.

Toki's arms trembled as he gave a mighty shove and pushed in, wonder softening his features as he bent down to press his lips anywhere he could reach. Skwisgaar grimaced against the brutal invasion, which was rougher than he had anticipated, his mouth opening in a silent cry. Toki's mouth found his, hot drops of sweat dripping down on Skwisgaar's face as he answered the feverish kiss.

Wrapping his arms around Toki's torso, Skwisgaar breathed against the painful stretch of accommodating his girth. He was not quite comfortable yet when Toki began moving, slow, irregular and deep thrusts accompanied by breathless gasps.

Skwisgaar watched Toki move above him; his slick hair swinging, the muscles of his abdomen contracting as he tried to get the hang of fucking. Pleasure contorting his face wiped out any trace of insecurity as he rocked into Skwisgaar's body. Seeing him like this was so goddamn arousing that he was going to come untouched if Toki kept up his pace.

Clutching Toki's slim hips with one hand, Skwisgaar wordlessly urged him to thrust deeper and harder, stroking himself in time with his movements. Toki obliged, redoubling his effort. Skwisgaar's mind went quiet and blank for a second before he splattered his own chest with come, his pelvic floor contracting around Toki's cock as they both helplessly moaned. Arms giving way, Toki collapsed on top of him. Skwisgaar kissed his face, heart rate decelerating only slowly with the immeasurable love washing through him.

"I can't finish like this." Toki panted in bewilderment after rocking ineffectively without the leverage of his arms for a while.

"Go lie on your back."

Straddling his lap, Skwisgaar drank in the sight of Toki's blissful expression as he sank back down on his cock. Bracing himself against the headboard he rocked slowly, the bed thumping against the wall with the force. Toki's nails dug into his ass as he guided his movements until his frantic bucking and moaning peaked a second time. The feeling of strong hands holding him in place as Toki spilled into him as deeply as possible filled him with languid gratification for days afterwards.

 

 

*******

"So... was this what you wanted to talk about when you got home?" Toki asked, facing Skwisgaar on his side, their legs tangled together under the covers.

He was still a little breathless even after they had snuck across the hallway naked to wash each other quietly in the bathroom.

"Huh, ja... pretty much." Skwisgaar smiled lazily, toying with Toki’s damp hair.

"Good talk." Toki grinned, and he leaned forward for another kiss.

He slept as soon as Skwisgaar's lips left his.

*******

**Notes**

Endless pleasure, endless love. Aria from Semele by Georg Friedrich Händel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgoRz62xS0k

**Translations**

Swedish

"Skwisgaar, säga hej till din mamma." - Skwisgaar, say hello to your mom.

"Hallå mor, detta är en överraskning..." - Hello mother, this is a surprise...

"Minns du vad du lovade?" - Remember what you promised?

Norwegian

"Du hadde rett." - You were right.

"Hedre din far og din mor, så dine dager må bli mange i det land Herren din Gud gir dig." - Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

"Du er så vakker, og jeg har ønsket deg så lenge." - You are so beautiful, and I've wanted you for so long.

"Hvordan gjør jeg dette?" - How do I do this?


	14. Nocturne

Waking up in darkness, Toki instinctively knew he could not have slept more than a couple of hours, but he hardly felt tired. Feeling Skwisgaar's ribcage rise and fall under his arm as they sprawled next to each other, and hearing his even breathing break the dead silence, Toki's face broke into a wide smile. Affection and happiness seeped through his limbs, and he rolled onto his side to snuggle up to the big, warm body next to him. Skwisgaar's skin was soft, even though his slender frame was angular and bony, and Toki let his flat hand rove along the curve of his spine with delight.  

Skwisgaar sighed deeply but did not move, and Toki took it as an encouragement. Beginning at the back of his thighs this time, he ran his hand up the lean muscle, across the swell of his round ass, and back down via the other leg. He planted kisses on the arm in front of him, soft and chaste, but he could not help getting hard again. Ignoring his dick for the time being, he toyed with the long curls that coiled in the crook of Skwisgaar's neck, twisting them around his finger, petting them, brushing them so they stretched across the expanse of his back.

As he fantasised about burying his face in them as he fucked Skwisgaar, his cock twitched up from where it lay heavily on his hipbone, and he wondered if he could make that happen right now. Need unlike anything he had ever experienced sped up his movements.

Stroking Skwisgaar's face got him no reaction, nor did increasing the intensity with which he touched the rest of his body. When Toki experimentally ran a finger down the cleft of his ass, Skwisgaar let out another sigh. He was either in a deep sleep or okay with being fondled, Toki decided. No reason to stop touching him.

The soft hairs at his centre were still wet, and Toki felt his way along the smooth skin until he encountered the ridge of muscle he was looking for. If he had not been lying on his other arm, it would have been nice to jack off to this, but as it happened, he would just have to be a little patient. Gently probing the slick spot, he inched closer, rubbing himself against Skwisgaar's hip. Still without response, Toki sank one of his fingers inside, both curious and incredibly aroused. The unresisting, slick walls that gripped his finger felt almost as good as when he had his dick inside, and the memory made him moan quietly as he pushed his finger deeper.

"Toki," Skwisgaar murmured, but nothing else followed.

"Skwis?" He whispered back. "Er du våken?"

He did not stop moving his finger, but reckoned it would be a little weird if he tried to mount him while he was still asleep. 

"Hmm."

It was answer enough for Toki.

Getting up on hands and knees, he crouched over Skwisgaar's back, his cock twitching violently at the prospect of fucking that ass again. He used his knees to nudge Skwisgaar's legs further apart and guided the tip of his cock in position. Leaning on one arm and gripping his hip with the other, Toki pushed in slowly, savouring the feel of the tight, wet slide around the head of his dick. He halted a moment to knead the supple muscle of Skwisgaar’s ass.

A tight clenching preceded Skwisgaar pushing himself up on his elbows and looking back at him, and it was so good it almost hurt.

"Hva faen er det du gjør?" He whispered, but it was coy rather than indignant.

"I'm so hard... and you're so wet, and I want you so much..." Toki pleaded as he minutely rocked his hips. "Please?"

"I can't resist you when you talk like that," Skwisgaar trailed off on a moan. "Fuck, that's hot."

When he lay back down, Toki felt him tilt his hips in invitation, and suddenly he could push a lot deeper. Lowering himself onto Skwisgaar's back, he gripped his shoulders for leverage, shallowly bucking as he nuzzled the ample blond curls like he wanted. Skwisgaar's hair smelled absolutely delectable, but the scent of his sweat was what really riled him up. Swiping the hair over his shoulder, Toki nipped at the skin there with his teeth, biting a little harder every time until Skwisgaar made a strangled noise along the lines of 'Oi Herregud' and pushed his hips back against him.

Losing it completely, he pushed himself upright, gripping Skwisgaar's hips, and pounded into him hard and fast. Skwisgaar's moans began to sound like sobs, but no amount of embarrassment for anyone who might hear them could make Toki stop. When impending orgasm flooded him with pleasure, he sheathed himself as deeply as he could, riding out the high while he gasped for air.

Skwisgaar hummed in satisfaction when he toppled onto his back, craning his neck to kiss the top of his head. Big, soft lips pressed against his hair, and silence returned to the bedroom, save for their panting.

"Can we just keep doing this forever?" Toki mumbled, searching Skwisgaar's lips in the dark.

"Sounds like a plan."

"What do you want?" He asked, suddenly aware of the fact that he had been completely selfish.

"To sleep in a dry spot," Skwisgaar huffed, drawing his arm from underneath his hips and wiping his hand on Toki's arm.

"Hei!" Toki huffed, and Skwisgaar let out a low chuckle.

Rolling out of bed, Toki wondered with unholy glee if Skwisgaar's mom was a deep sleeper. If not, he supposed it was payback time.

 

*******

The sound of his mother rummaging about in his bathroom pulled Skwisgaar from his restful sleep. Pale light filtered through the white curtains of his bedroom, signifying that it must be pretty late in the morning. Raising his head he glanced over at Toki with a tender smile. Toki snored softly, nestled on his back into one of the pillows. His hair fanned out irregularly, framing his pale face, and one of his hands lay next to his head, fingers loosely curling. The other hand possessively cupped Skwisgaar's ass under the covers.

If there was anything that could have made him love Toki more it was his unapologetic sexuality. In the light of his previous innocence and strict upbringing, Skwisgaar had expected him to be a lot more shy, or nervous, or passive, but waking up in the middle of the night with Toki on top of him proved he was none of the above.

His parted lips and angelic expression as he slept certainly belied the ferocity with which he had fucked Skwisgaar into the mattress last night. Twice. In his fantasies he had not pinned Toki as naturally dominant, but it looked like they might be very sexually compatible indeed. It was easy to see Toki as a baby because of his youthful innocence, but he had a natural confidence that made him more mature than Skwisgaar in some ways. It was great to see that side take over in bed.

Rolling over, he planted a kiss on Toki's forehead, but when he lay back to watch him some more, Toki's eyes fluttered open. He favoured Skwisgaar with his bright-eyed smile.

"God morgen," he beamed.

"Heja," Skwisgaar whispered back.

Toki moved into his arms like it was the most natural thing, and it probably was for him at this point. Pulling him as close as possible, Skwisgaar kissed the top of his head.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've never been so happy in my life." Toki sighed.

"Everything is better now that you are here." Skwisgaar agreed.

It felt good to say the things he felt so deeply out loud, because he knew Toki would understand.

Toki's loose hair tickled Skwisgaar's collarbone as he rubbed his cheek against his chest. Firmly stroking the skin of his stomach, Toki's hands wandered over his hipbone and down his leg, nails scratching softly through the hair while he purred in delight.

"Is there something you want, Toki?" Skwisgaar teased.

"Yes, you." Toki said in between the kisses he placed on his sternum.

"Again?"

"Get used to it."

The heady mix of joy and desire in his eyes was infectious, and Skwisgaar pulled him on top in one swift movement. Toki was heavier than he looked - compact - which made being pinned by him feel extra good. The rigid length of his cock languidly ground down against him, starting a smouldering burn in Skwisgaar's gut. He felt around for the bottle of lube, but as soon as he popped the cap, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Comes out and haves breakfast for a minutes, boys. You gots to keeps you strength up." Serveta's amused voice cut through the door.

Skwisgaar threw his arm over his head in embarrassment, but Toki giggled.

"I mades French Toast..." Serveta said in a tempting voice, and Toki's stomach growled in response.

"Moms...!" Skwisgaar began.

"Be there in a seconds, Ms Skwigelf!" Toki called, blushing but chipper. "What? Don't tell me you aren't hungry."

There was no way of knowing for Toki that Skwisgaar never could summon an appetite around his mother, but he supposed going down to breakfast was the proper thing to do in this instance. Perhaps it would not be a bad thing to follow Toki's lead in interacting with his mother; they might even learn to get along.

Toki dipped his head for a lingering kiss, then bounded off the bed to throw on some clothes. Sitting up, Skwisgaar watched in amusement as he adjusted himself in his tight-fitting boxer shorts and pulled on sweats and a loose t-shirt.

"How obvious is my boner?" He asked with a grin.

"Huh... it’s barely noticeable if you're not looking for it."

"You coming, or shall I distract your mom for a bit?"

"I'll be right there, go on ahead."

Feeling for his glasses, he waved Toki away. His light footsteps disappeared down the stairwell as Skwisgaar lay back on the pillows to think. He had not anticipated for yesterday evening to take such a strange turn that he ended up with Toki in his bed and his mother in his house, and though he could not be happier about hooking up with Toki, he could not lose sight of his work with the distractions piling up. He had better make sure everyone was on the same page about how things were going to be the next couple of days, because he still had two recitals to play, and he could not afford to end the tour with shitty performances.

Sighing, he hauled his ass out of bed in search of a hair tie. The remnants of his arousal faded, and he threw on pyjama pants and a hoodie to appear at least half-decent. The smell of French toast wafting up the stairwell was delicious, but he had a hard time believing his mother had actually cooked breakfast. She never had when he was young, as far as he remembered. In the kitchen, Toki was stuffing his face while Serveta pushed more toast onto his plate, and the chocolate spread smeared across one of his cheeks amused Skwisgaar.

"Toki, ams you puttings Nutella on you French toast?" He asked in English for his mother’s benefit.

That was not a combination he would have thought to make.

"Ja, it ams so goods," Toki moaned around a mouthful, "you needs to definitely tries it."

"Since when does you cooks?" He asked Serveta, and it came out a little brasher than he had meant.

"Good mornings to you, too Skwisgaar." Serveta pretended she did not catch his tone, and Toki gave him a warning look. "Wells, you haven'ts lived with me for overs a decades, so you mights has missed a few things."

"Haves I ever." He moderated his tone, but he still could not help the backhanded remark.

"So what's we going to do todays?" Toki cut through the tension.

Skwisgaar supposed going back to bed was out of the question since it was noon. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked his calendar and the group WhatsApp to see if he had any appointments.

"Well, I does needs to plays for at least two hours todays, and..." He scrolled through the messages. "it seem like everyone am coming over tonight for board games-"

"Oh ja, Pickle has this real fun new one what we goings to play!" Toki exclaimed. "It amen'ts real goods weather, but maybe we can goes sights-seeings around Oslo, if you like, Ms Skwigelf? You know, when Skwisgaar practice."

Despite the fact that it was very considerate of Toki to take his mom off his hands, it was a little weird to see them interacting like they had known each other for a while.

"I shows you around town and you cans tells me unsbarrassing things abouts Skwisgaar when he was a kids." He smirked.

"Calls me Serveta, Toki. And I woulds likes dat."

"Ja, we cans pick up some groceries afterward so we can cook for everyones. Shoulds gives you enough quiets times to prepares, right, Skwis?"

"Yes Tokis, I'd appreciate dat." Skwisgaar inclined his head.  

"Oh! We coulds goes to the Botanicals Garden at university. There am some cool plants in bloom in the greenhouse rights now and it will be warms!"

"Sound lovely." Serveta smiled while she approached Skwisgaar with the pan. "You still a pickies eater or does you likes dis?"

"Woulds likes some, tack." He held out his plate.

With Toki serving as a buffer between him and his mom, the nausea faded enough for him to feel hungry. Toki reached over with a knife and Nutella.

"Look, you gots to puts this on, and then slaps this on top - is the best." He said as he spread the chocolate on Skwisgaar's toast.

He was right, of course; it was delicious.

"So, whats am de deal with you twos? You haves separate rooms and everythings yet I hears you goings at it all nights." Serveta commented with a twinkle in her eyes.

A piece of toast nearly went down his windpipe, and he spluttered. Toki grinned at him.

"Ja, wells, I think it was a long time comings but last nights was kinds of new for us."

"You's serious?" Serveta’s eyebrows shot up under her bangs. "Since when you lives here, den?"

"Whats was it? Late Octobers?" Toki thought aloud, and Skwisgaar nodded. "My dads cut me off, so Skwisgaar takes me in and I never leaves."

"Dat's nice of hims." Serveta said, her tone conveying that she would never have expected that of her son. "How dids you knows each other? You seems quite a bit youngers than Skwisgaar."

"He ams my teachers." Toki said blithely. "Oi, thats sound kinds of messed up actuallies."

"Wells, I'ms not judgings."  Serveta shrugged.

For once Skwisgaar was sincerely pleased about his mother's relaxed attitude towards sexuality in all its forms. It seemed to put Toki at ease for a minute.

"My dads woulds kill me if he knew." His eyes widened suddenly.

"You dads almost kill you because you at de consorvatories. He got hims priorities all wrong." Skwisgaar countered. 

"And whats woulds my moms say...?" Toki let his fork clatter out of his hands with a horrified expression.

"Och, älskling," Serveta said as she smoothed a hand over his hair. "Don'ts you worries abouts it. Was dis you forst times?" 

 

*******

Hanging out with Serveta was not nearly as bad as Skwisgaar always made it out to be, but then again, he had not seen his mother face-to-face in years. People could change. Toki himself had made a complete 180 in behaviour in the last four months, from an isolated, judgemental and repressed Biblethumper to the person he really was underneath his backwards upbringing.

He could see that Serveta was a huge flirt who always had one eye on potential hook-ups, but she was not nearly as simple or shallow as he had gathered from Skwisgaar's sparse comments about his mother. She had been perceptive enough this morning, and Toki had found himself strangely comforted by how she took their liaison in stride.

It was scary and a little saddening to think how his own parents would react to his relationship with Skwisgaar. They would not care if it was love. His dad would condemn him straight to hell, and he had no illusions about what his mother would think. He wondered if she could still love him knowing this, or that she would regret helping him escape. Somehow, the thought of his mother turning her back on him too made him feel very alone in the world.

Walking around Oslo talking to Serveta was actually rather companiable. She had marvelled at the exotic plants blooming in the greenhouses of the botanical garden, and a detour had taken them to the building of the conservatory, where Toki had pointed out some noteworthy details to her and told her anecdotes about lessons with Skwisgaar.

During the walk back from the supermarket, they ended up gossiping about him again.

"Listens, Toki... how olds am you?"

"Nineteens. Ams turning twenties in February."

"Gudskelov! I fears you was seventeens or somethings by de looks of you."

"Oh! No, a bits older than that." He grinned.

"Still, I shoulds probably warns you abouts my son, because I don'ts think he woulds open up dat easily himself. Of course I gots no idea if you am in it for de long hauls?"

"Eh... My inskinks am to says yes, but is so earlies..."

He had not really thought beyond trying to kiss him.

"Either ways, I hates to sees him horts you. If you been livings with him and takings hims classes you probablies know how difficult he can bes...?"

"Pffff, ja, you can says that again. He gots a good heart, though." Toki was quick to defend him. "He think a little differents about whats am acceptables to says to people. Sometime he reals harsh, but I learns to reads him and deals with it, I think?"

"Den you mights be doesing betters dan me. Even when he was a kids, I nevers understoods him, we never gots a goods bond... He nevers like to cuddle or look at me, and de thing I talk to him about bores him. I don'ts knows where I wents wrong dat he despise me so - except maybes dat I gives up too soons?"

"Don't thinks it ams you fault you don'ts understands him.” Toki hesitated. “Haves you ever considers that he mights not be neurotypical?"

His friends had theories abound about the reason why Skwisgaar could seem so brazen and self-centered at times, or even completely uncaring and heartless. While Nathan indeed chalked it up to Serveta's neglect and Murderface thought he was just an arrogant dick, Pickles and Toki shared a different view.

"I don'ts know whats you mean by dat, Toki." She said uncertainly.

"Without wantings to sounds like a jerk... he mights be autistic."

"Oh!" Serveta looked confused. “But amen'ts he way too smarts for dat?”

"Nots if he gots Aspergers syndrome or high functionings autism. And I gots to say it sound very likelies, the way he gets so obsessed with things...? It run in my mom's family, and I gots a niece whats ams kinds of like him in certain aspecs."

"And whats do Skwisgaar says abouts dat?" Serveta cocked her head at him.

"We nevers talked about it. You don'ts just walks up to someones sayings: 'Hei, we thinks you brain work in a weirds way, whats you gots to say for youself?'"

"Wells… I guess I reads up on it sometime." She said pensively. "But whats I wanteds to talks to you abouts am more... maybe it ams related? He gots real troubles committings to a relatesingship, evens with... high stakes."

"Nots necessarily related, I thinks." Toki said carefully.

What did she mean by ‘high stakes’? Had he been married, or something?

"In dat case, I probablies give him de wrong example," she sighed. 

"He know how to commit to other things, so I gots hope. We wills see. Thanks you for the heads up - I guess is maybe a goods idea to talk expectations with him before anythings."

Holding the yard's gate for Skwisgaar's mom, Toki let her pass. A whirlwind of piano music still sounded from inside the house, but Toki figured that over three hours would suffice, so he set down the grocery bags and opened the door. Dropping them in the kitchen, he very nearly skipped over to Skwisgaar.

The wait for him to finish his sonata had him bouncing on his toes, but after a minute Skwisgaar abruptly stopped playing to gather him in his arms and kiss him thoroughly. The love that flowed between them completely neutralised his earlier worry concerning his parents' opinion. Something that felt this good could not possibly be bad, could it? No matter what anyone said?

"Jeg kan ikke tro det..." Swisgaar murmured, holding him at an arm's length, then pulling him close for another kiss. "Are you alright?"

"Serveta and I had fun. Did you get to do what you needed?"

"Ja. You're very sweet to do this."

Looking up into his deep-set eyes, Toki dismissed all thought of Serveta's warnings. Toki would find out what he needed, and give him that. They could make this work.

"Shall I help you cook?" Skwisgaar offered.

"No thanks!" Toki declined quickly.

Skwisgaar was just as overbearing in the kitchen as in the classroom, though he had significantly less know-how than Toki. Failed attempts often resulted in him throwing cutlery and ingredients, and it would not be the first time Toki had to kick him out with the order to clean the food off the far wall in the hallway.

"Why don't you try to talk to your mom a bit? Make a little effort."

"It's weird to me how you two are so friendly after one day."

"We've got no history. That helps. So maybe focus on the here and now instead of... you know?"

Grimacing, Skwisgaar obliged, fixing them coffee and sitting down with his mom to talk while Toki threw together a quick meal that would feed seven people. Halfway through, Pickles showed up with one grocery bag full of board games and one filled with clinking bottles of liquor, which Skwisgaar ran to intercept before his mom would see it.

"I goings to hides dat, Pickle. My moms can'ts handle her booze." He called after Pickles, shoving the bag into the empty cupboard over Toki's head.

Toki felt arms snake around his waist, and hot breath preceded lips against the shell of his ear. Hands roved up his torso, and hips pressed up to his butt, and it was enough to instantly double his heart rate. Skwisgaar's lips pressed a trail down his neck where he pushed the hair aside-

"Doods! I totally called it months ago! Ye're fehcking, ain't ye?" Pickles exclaimed when he walked back into the kitchen.

"Huh… ja, we ams now." Skwisgaar admitted with a faint smirk.

"Good fer yew. What's cookin', Toki?"

 

*******

"Okay, I braght 'Descent: journeys in the dark', 'War of the Ring'-"

"Dibsch on 'War of the Ring', who daresch to take me on?" Murderface crowed.

"I'm going to kick your ass so hard after you stabbed me in the back during 'Eclipse' last time." Nathan growled combatively.

"...'Eclipse' and 'Munchkin'." Pickles summed up.

"Oh, gives Munchkin to Toki, I sets it up!" Toki made grabby hands at the compact box. "Who ams playings this with me?"

"Totally!" Abigail said, looking over his shoulder. "I think I played this before somewhere, it's hilarious. I could keep entertained just reading what it says on the cards."

Pickles began explaining the rules and objectives as they sat down around the dining table, Murderface and Nathan taking their game over to the coffee table. Too busy admiring the dragon the lid of the 'Descent' box, Skwisgaar only sat down with them when Toki nudged him.

"Come on, Serveta," Toki beckoned her from where she was reading a magazine. "is goings to be fun."

"Abigail, we gahtta watch oot fer those two," Pickles said conspirationally. "Now that they're fehckin' they're gahnna be gangin' up on us all the time..."

Abigail rounded on them with wide, indignant eyes.

"Why am I hearing this only now? After months of listening to your pining," She jabbed Skwisgaar in the chest with a finger, and slapped at Toki's arm with a handful of cards. "and keeping all of your dirty little secrets!"

"It's beens less dan twenty-four hour!" Skwisgaar said defensively. "We woulds has tolds you soon enough."

"How much effort would a little phone call have been? Or a text...!" She grinned. "I'll keep a rain check on the details then. Prepare to spill."

"Oh, ams we ever," Toki smirked back.

"Ja, dere was a lots of spillings..."

"Doods. Think about yer mahm."

Serveta laughed the same low, throaty chuckle as her son.

"If you hads been stayings here you woulds has hads front-row tickets." She chuckled as she flipped over the first card. "Level 10 morder faeries..." She read. "With dis armours I ams… huh, level three. Who helps me takes dem on?"

Skwisgaar tossed her a power bonus. 

 

*******

**Notes**

Nocturne in E flat, op.9 no.2 by Frédéric Chopin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KV5bBmhSOEc&index=7&list=PLnKsoNaI9VFbj4RmMuOdcUj8lDJHtR4Bd

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Hva faen er det du gjør?" - What the fuck are you doing?

"Jeg kan ikke tro det..." - I can't believe it...

Swedish

"Gudskelov!" - Thank god! 


	15. Dieser Mensch hört nicht auf zu reden Lästerworte

The nondescript station wagon parked in front of his house seemed familiar, but Skwisgaar had to think deep to remember where he had seen it before. Engrossed in thought, he nearly missed Magnus' wave on the other side of the street. Skwisgaar had meant to find him at the conservatory and thank him officially for his work as a substitute, but he had not seen him anywhere today. Waving back absently, he was about to enter the garden when he thought better of it and doubled back to hand him the bottle of whiskey that had been weighing down his bag all day.  

"Thanks you so much, agains, for helpings me out."

"No problem man, I'm here if you need me." Magnus smiled, clapping him on his shoulder to see him on his way.

As Skwisgaar approached the front door he could hear Toki play from the living room, but there was a moderation or reservation to his sound that warned Skwisgaar that he had company. Looking back to the car, it clicked into place. Toki had said his mother might be allowed to visit him again some days ago, and it seemed like they had made quick work of meeting up. Sure enough, there was a pair of women's ankle boots on the shoe rack next to Toki's combat boots.

Tempering his enthusiasm about seeing Toki after a long day at work, he hovered in the doorway until the music died away. Anja Wartooth glanced at him once and smiled politely, and he mouthed a greeting back. She looked older than Serveta, but whether it was because of the harsh weather in the mountains or their sober living conditions, Skwisgaar could not guess. She had the same hair as Toki; dead straight and dark blond but laced with grey, her long braid hanging down to her waist.

Toki got up from the bench and walked up to him with a nervous smile. Grabbing his hand instead of kissing him, Toki led him towards his mother.

"Mamma, I want you to meet someone..." He began, and Mrs Wartooth's eyes darted between them.

"Hyggelig å møte deg." Skwisgaar said as he took her hand and shook it.

"Skwisgaar," Toki took a deep breath, "er kjæresten min."

Anja's hand went limp in Skwisgaar's grasp.

"The same you told me about when you came home during the autumn break?" She said uncertainly.

Skwisgaar immediately knew this spelled trouble; Toki should not have sprung it on his mother the way he had.

"Yes!" Toki beamed, too caught up in his own giddiness to think his mother might not share those feelings. 

"Good heavens, Toki. That is a lot to process right now." She mumbled before directing her attention back to Skwisgaar. "Nice to meet you too, Skwisgaar. I, ah... Thank you for looking after my son when I could not."

"It was my honour. We all thought it was important that Toki could keep studying no matter what, so everyone of our friends helped where they could."

The sadness in Anja's eyes was too much for Skwisgaar. Why did something dumb like a three thousand year old book put up such boundaries between loved ones? He would never get it. It was too much to hope that she would take Toki's homosexuality in stride, much less their relationship, but he fervently wished she would not immediately cut contact with Toki. He was still so vulnerable, so new to everything that was going on in his life right now; he needed the unconditional support from his mother to fall back on.

"What did you plan for dinner, Toki? Shall I cook?" He asked to remove himself from the situation as fast as possible.

"The recipe's on top of the ingredients on the countertop, if you want to."

Despite the fact that he would rather stretch out with a book while Toki cooked for him, he wanted to give them space to talk. Perhaps if Anja could see what a good thing they had together, she would not judge them too harshly. Not that Skwisgaar cared about anyone judging him, but he did not think Toki was confident enough to remain indifferent to his mother's opinion however he had managed to transform his faith to fit his new life.

With displays of affection out of the question, Skwisgaar summoned a smile just for Toki before disappearing into the kitchen.

Dinner was a quiet affair, because Toki's mother was not a big talker, and the tension had caught up to Toki. Skwisgaar was a little too tired to summon the will for small talk - which he was horrible at, anyway.

It was lucky that Anja had missed Serveta by a day. There was no doubt in Skwisgaar's mind that his mother's presence, in her low-cut and revealing clothes, would only have made things worse. Neither her direct language nor her edgy humour could have reflected very well on Skwisgaar in Anja's eyes.

Trying to curb his eye-fucking Toki in her presence was a challenge after being free to do so when Serveta was around. His own mother thought their relationship was nothing short of adorable, and seeing how different things could have been, Skwisgaar warmed towards his own mother a little more. He really had not appreciated the good things about Serveta enough before, but he was definitely going to make more of an effort now.

After Toki had seen his mother off, he curled up on the couch with his head on Skwisgaar's lap.

"Do you think it was dumb of me to tell her?" He asked with his big pleading eyes.

"No, I think it was honest and brave of you. Now that she knows, she can decide for herself what she wants to do with that knowledge."

"I'm afraid she won't come to see me again. She looked so disappointed." 

Skwisgaar ran his fingers through Toki's hair, and used his other hand to stroke the soft skin of his stomach underneath his clothes.

"The only way to find that out is to talk to her about it - perhaps when she's had some time to think? It's a lot to process, like she said; all of a sudden she knows you're gay and in a relationship with someone who is clearly not your peer, and that has a lot of consequences for how she would have perceived you and your future up to this point. Might not even be homophobia, just... a lot of moms immediately think they won't get any grandkids and all that. You have to keep all that in mind. It doesn't have to be anything to do with her faith. She might just think I'm too old for you, or be taken aback at the fact that you are growing up so fast. Let's just hope your mother will beat the odds. She has surprised you before, ja?"

"I don’t think so, though." Toki said dejectedly, but he did not elaborate on what he _did_ think.

 

*******

Holding Skwisgaar's hand as they walked the dark, snowy streets at night was extremely satisfying even though their thick gloves prevented any actual contact, Toki thought. This kind of happiness apparently came at a price, but screw his family, screw God and everyone in between who did not approve. Maybe he was in too deep, and maybe he was gambling his happiness too much on one person, but when had anyone else ever made him feel this good?

The biting cold was most noticeable while they waited to be let into the smelly apartment building - Pickles took his freaking time. While their breath condensed in front of their faces Toki noted with amusement that the amount of snow covering the multitude of bicycles indicated exactly which ones were still in use and which were basically abandoned junk.

They sheltered under the porch, and when Toki shivered in his borrowed leather jacket, Skwisgaar wrapped his arms around him and kissed his cold nose with lips that were only a few degrees warmer and a little chapped. Raising his head, Toki's gaze wandered from the snowflakes melting in pale gold hair to the subtle crinkle of his eyes as he smiled, and after revelling in the anticipation for a moment, he stood on his toes and slotted his lips against Skwisgaar's.

The loud buzz accompanying the opening of the entrance to the flat broke them apart. Pickles had apparently taken a big hit of God-knows-what right before Toki and Skwisgaar arrived, and he had barely managed to open the door for them, crawling back to his couch to space out. Toki crouched over him, patting his cheek to try and bring him around, but it was no use. Pickles could not even convey what exactly it was he had taken, and Toki sighed in annoyance.

"Don't tell me this sort of thing still gets to you," Skwisgaar said.

"It creeps me out to see people black out. Why would you voluntarily want to give up control over both your body and mind like that?"

"From what I know, not everyone can control their thoughts and emotions as well as they would like. Sometimes it's nice to shut everything down entirely, you know, just get a break from what's bothering you."

"Really?" Toki said sceptically.

"Not everyone can do that happy place thing you told me about when they're feeling like shit."

"I think it's more a matter of not wanting to."

"You can't judge people about how they choose to deal with their personal crap. Isn't that in your fairy-tale book somewhere?" Skwisgaar nudged him, taking his coat.

"Point taken." Toki acceded.

"Let's see if Pickle stocked up on anything else than hallucenogenics, otherwise we need to give Nathan or Moidaface a ring."

Toki followed Skwisgaar into the kitchen, pawing him from behind as he opened the fridge to inspect its contents. The thick knitted jumper he was wearing was no real boundary for Toki's roaming hands; the memory of touching the flat planes of his chest fresh enough that he could trace them through the wool.

"Well, there's enough to... huh..." Skwisgaar trailed off, turning to face Toki with a distracted look.

Two big hands enveloped his ass and lifted him onto the kitchen counter. Crowding between Toki's legs, Skwisgaar crushed their bodies together with a soft growl before baring Toki's neck and placing hot kisses on the exposed skin. Skwisgaar's fervour was one of the few things that made Toki feel small. Not small like he was unsafe or weak, but more as if he was cherished, sheltered; wanted.

"I don't know why we ever leave the house," Toki sighed as he shifted to allow a hand to slide down his back and into his pants.

"I do believe it was your idea, kjære." Skwisgaar smirked against neck.

"Ugh, I love seeing my friends, but I just love seeing you naked more."

Just as he was about to delve his tongue deeply into Skwisgaar's mouth, the doorbell rang.

"Pickle!" Toki shouted when there was no movement from the adjacent room. "Opens the door, will you?"

It was no use.

A kiss on his forehead left Toki sitting alone on the counter. As soon as he heard Nathan and Abigail's voices greet Skwisgaar, he poured them some drinks.

Halfway through their first round of beers Pickles came around enough to join them at the upended wooden crate that served as a coffee table, and rolled a joint to share with Nathan.

"Hey, give me that!" Abigail snatched it from Nathan's hand.

"Abigail, the fact that you're my girlfriend doesn't mean you get to tell me what-" Nathan began.

Inhaling deeply, Abigail blew the smoke into his face.

"Share, Tonto."

"I guess I'll shut up now." Nathan grumbled.

Abigail winked at Toki conspirationally, as if she was showing him the ropes on how to deal with overbearing boyfriends. He grinned back. Offering the blunt to Skwisgaar, she took another pull as he hesitated and looked at Toki, who shrugged. Toki did not need him to start changing his behaviour, yet Skwisgaar declined anyway. Nathan sent Toki into the kitchen with a request for chips, and as he poured Doritos into a bowl, Murderface arrived.

"Schkwischgaar, your mug isch in the tabloidsch, look!" Toki heard him slur from the other room.

Curious, Toki snatched up the bowl of chips and made his way towards his friends.

"Too bad it's in Swedish." Nathan said, holding the tabloid at an arm's length to study the picture. "You look kind of shady here. I wonder what it says."

"Gives to me dat," Skwisgaar yanked the magazine from Nathan's hands, skimming the front page and blanching a little. "Can I has dis?" He asked Murderface with a guarded expression.

When Murderface shrugged, Skwisgaar leafed through the magazine with Nathan looking over his shoulder.

"Is this about what I think it is about...?" Nathan asked under his breath, and Skwisgaar gave him a terse nod.

"Whats ams they sayings about you?" Toki butted in.

"I don'ts wish to talks about it. It don'ts concerns you." Skwisgaar snapped.

"Oh." Toki felt a little taken aback at the brusqueness of his voice.

"Theht bad, huh?" Pickles asked. When he got no reply, he addressed Toki: "Well, at least if it don't concern you, theht means they didn't find oot aboot you two. So there's theht."

"It do concern me if it make Skwisgaar upset." Toki said. "Makes me wonder if I needs to goes and kick someone's ass." 

"I'ms not upset!"

Toki followed Skwisgaar with his eyes as he got up to stash the tabloid away somewhere, leaving concern and confusion in his wake.

"Keep telling yourschelf that..." Murderface muttered.

"Way to go, Murderface," Nathan said, "did you have to spring this on him in public?"

"Nobody even knowsch what it schaysch! How wasch I supposched to know he'd get hisch pantiesch in a bunch?"

The remainder of the evening was tense, and Skwisgaar requested to go home a lot sooner than he normally would have. On the walk home Toki's mind kept churning out one crazy theory after another as well as half-baked plans to steal the magazine and try to read the Swedish. He was curious as sin, and he could tell Skwisgaar was not going to tell him anything of his own volition.

"Go on then, huh, where are the questions? Isn't sticking your nose in other people's business your usual style?" Skwisgaar broke the silent crunching of their boots through the snow. "You're going to start prying anyway, get it over with."

"Hei, that's uncalled for!" Toki exclaimed, even though it was mostly true. "You said you did not want to talk about it, so I'm not talking about it. I can wait until you do."

"I don't owe you all my secrets." Skwisgaar bit at him.

"Keep them, then," Toki snapped back. "If it truly doesn't concern me, it's of no consequence. But if it's going to be public knowledge I'd rather hear it from you than read it somewhere."

"Stay out of it." Skwisgaar commanded as he opened the front door.

"Whatever." Toki said, shoving past him and kicking off his boots without putting them on the rack. "I was staying out of it before you told me. Stop projecting your own vices on me."

"Hei, fuck you."

"Not with that attitude."

“Fine, be like that.”

“How is this about what I’m doing? You’re stirring up unnecessary bullshit!”

“Goddamn it, Toki…”

“For God’s sake, just shut up!”

Drawing himself up to his full height but still coming up short, he tried giving Skwisgaar an imperious look. He really wanted to take the high road here, so he turned away to seek out some quiet before he got really angry.

Skwisgaar clasped his wrist.

"Kjære..." He sighed. "I don't want you to think badly of me."

 

*******

"Why didn't you just say that, instead of attacking me?" Toki asked, exasperated. "How I think about you will have more to do with how you handle this than with your actual issue."

Skwisgaar had no idea how to salvage this train wreck of a conversation anymore, so he did the only thing he knew; shove the problem deep down and bury it with better feelings.

Bending down, he grabbed Toki by the back of his head and kissed him fiercely until he felt arms come up around his waist and grasp him tight. 

"Let me make it up to you." He whispered in the space between their lips as he broke away.

As Skwisgaar led him upstairs, Toki seemed at least temporarily placated by the implied apology, but he did make him work for it. More passive than was his usual wont, Toki allowed him to unzip his hoodie and pull off his t-shirt with a disgruntled look, but Skwisgaar prided himself on knowing what made his boyfriend tick. Lowering himself onto his knees, he felt Toki's nimble fingers thread into his hair as soon as his lips brushed the skin that stretched over his hard abs. The light, teasing pecks made Toki shiver with anticipation and his fingers scratch softly against his scalp.

When he unbuckled Toki's belt and opened his pants with the idea of getting rid of the rest of his clothes, Toki surprised him by guiding his cock to Skwisgaar's lips as soon as he pulled it out of his underwear. Simply mouthing at the head elicited an impatient sound from Toki, and his fist tightened in Skwisgaar's hair.

The reaction to the natural greediness and possessiveness with which Toki handled him shot through him like a lightning bolt, leaving a smouldering heat in its wake when Toki pushed his cock into his mouth. He supposed he had brought the rough treatment upon himself, and in a way he did not mind, because he thought Toki was hot as hell pissed off. However, when Toki started fucking his mouth with no regard for depth or intensity, Skwisgaar pulled away, protesting.

Without a word, Toki grabbed him under his arms and dragged him over to the edge of the bed, pushing his face into the mattress and yanking the belt from his pants to pull them halfway down his thighs. Skwisgaar did not mind that Toki had not bothered to undress either of them before kneeling behind him and grabbing his hips, because it somehow added  to the urgency of the moment, but he was not pleased when Toki threatened to go in dry.

"Hej, are you nuts?" Skwisgaar hissed as the blunt head of his cock pressed into his ass. “I don’t want you doing that!”

“Stop bitching.”

"I’ll stop _bitching_ when you use some lube.”

That was definitely crossing a line.

"Okay, whatever," Toki panted, feeling around under the pillow, and when that yielded nothing, under the bed.

A cold smear of lube was all he got in the way of preparation before Toki slammed his cock home, his belt buckle biting in the back of Skwisgaar's thigh.

"Jævla helveta!" Skwisgaar groaned. "What the fuck is wrong with you tonight?"

"Shut up, you love this."

If Toki had been any less inexperienced or any more perceptive, Skwisgaar's silence throughout would have told him exactly how much he did _not_ love this. Unfortunately, he kept up his brutal and self-centred pace until he finished. Ten minutes was a long fucking time to stare into space while he endured the borderline painful pounding.

Skwisgaar sighed regretfully as Toki left him to fend for himself while he got cleaned up and ready for bed. How had this evening gone downhill so fast? Between getting publicly shamed and practically molested, his mood had plummeted below zero. He should have been clear with Toki on both accounts. There was no way he could keep this a secret, and not putting up any boundaries because Toki was so young and inexperienced had been a dumb thing to do.                                                                                                                                                 

"Did you just try buying off your guilt with sex?" Toki mused when they both lay in bed; Toki relaxed and spread-eagled, Skwisgaar staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.

"Depends, did it work?" He mumbled.

"No."

"In that case we just had a really bad fuck."

Toki rolled onto his side to face him, but Skwisgaar did not look at him.

"That kind of bothers me, I... Sorry, I won't do it like that again. Skwis?"

"Ja, alright."

"Besides, we're not done yet."

"Pffft. I am done with _you_." He griped.

"You don't have to do anything," Toki trailed a hand across Skwisgaar's chest and arms, "just let me..."

A hand on his cheek turned his head to face Toki, who rolled onto his stomach to better be able to kiss him. The gentle kisses and the caresses of his free hand chipped away at Skwisgaar's glacial disposition, his own hands seeking purchase on Toki's body and pulling him on top. Starting at the corner of his mouth, Toki left a trail of wet kisses down his throat, across his collarbone and sternum until a tongue in his belly button made him squirm. Giggling, Toki made his way back up to toy with the piercing in his left nipple. The unhurried playfulness with which Toki worked his body eventually allowed for Skwisgaar's earlier arousal to return, blood rushing steadily south, but deep down he was still pissed.

Toki's bony ass in his hands as he sat on his hips made Skwisgaar long for something softer and sweeter. Spitefully fantasising about the round ass he had known so well once, about having a curvy woman in his lap instead of a skinny, ill-mannered teenage boy, Skwisgaar barely answered the attempts at kissing, focussing instead on the friction on his now fully hard cock. It was too rough, especially compared to the recollection of soft thighs and the slippery folds between them, but it was all he had at the moment.

Toki drew away, raking his eyes along Skwisgaar's body with a calculating expression. Suddenly he turned to crouch over his chest, facing his cock. Unable to see beyond Toki's slim thighs around his face, Skwisgaar let out a gasp as Toki licked at his dickhead. Moist lips and tongue slid teasingly across the tight, sensitive ache of his erection, and he moaned like a whore at the sensation. It was clumsy, but after months of only his own rough hands he could not be happier that Toki was going to give head.

Without warning, Toki rolled off him, and he motioned for Skwisgaar to roll with him so they faced each other on their sides. Hands on his ass yanked his hips closer so Toki could take more of his cock into his mouth, and he used his leverage to make Skwisgaar thrust lightly into the slick, wet heat.

"Fuck, Toki..." He murmured incoherently.

The sight of Toki hardening again in front of his face as he made an enthusiastic attempt at sucking dick instigated Skwisgaar to buck a little harder. He ran his hand across the dark blond hair on Toki's legs, palming his erection and mouthing at it to encourage his efforts.

The impending orgasm building in his lower body made him gasp out a warning before taking Toki's cock in him mouth again to suck on it hard as he came. The heavy weight of the hard length on his tongue heightened his pleasure significantly. 

Skwisgaar rolled away while Toki struggled to swallow a facefull of his come, watching with amusement and satisfaction as some of it escaped down his chin.

Catching it with his hand and licking it off, Toki grinned.

"Wowee, that was awesome!" He exclaimed as he straddled Skwisgaar's hips again, feverishly running his hands over his torso.

Skwisgaar folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes with a smile, until a hot drip made him look back up at Toki's flushed face. He bit his lip adorably while the tips of his fingers massaged his shaft, precum dripping down on Skwisgaar's stomach in strings.

"Skwis?" Toki drew out the syllable, staring out from underneath hooded eyelids.

"What do you want?"

"I want you... I want to pump you so full of cum that you-"

"Remember when I said I was done with you?"

"Ja." Toki hung his head.

Forget about it. I just want you to know you're a base fucking animal," Skwisgaar teased, "but go ahead. Fuck me, and make it good this time."

 

*******

To say that Toki's patience was rewarded was not the right word for it, but after almost a week of watching the tabloid mystery eat Skwisgaar from the inside, he was let in on the secret. Letting his last piano student of the day out the door, he spotted Skwisgaar dragging his feet on the other side of the road, looking tired and torn. When Skwisgaar saw him at the door, he crossed the quiet street with its dirty banks of snow on either side.

"Hei Skwis," Toki stood on his toes to give him a chaste kiss and took his bag.

"Älskling, we need to talk." Skwisgaar sighed, resting his forehead against Toki's.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch so he could face Skwisgaar, Toki tried to brace himself for a shitstorm. The grave expression on Skwisgaar’s face was enough to make his heart sink. How bad could it really be?

"I don't really have a good way to say this," Skwisgaar hesitated. "but… I have children."

"Oh!"

Whatever Toki had been speculating about, that was not it. Why would he keep that a secret? Was he leading some sort of double life? What else did Toki not know about the man he had been living with for months now? Since Skwisgaar did not offer any further details, Toki fired questions at him.

"How many?"

"Three, as far as I know." Skwisgaar admitted with downcast eyes.

"What are their names?"

"What do you mean, what are their names?" He snapped.

"Just trying to paint a picture - I don't know what else to say!" Toki shouted back.

Skwisgaar regarded him with baleful eyes.

"I don't know the other two, but the first-" he paused to take a shuddering breath, "my first daughter is called Vibeke."

"That’s a nice name. Have you got any pictures?" Toki asked, curious.

He belatedly realised Skwisgaar was in tears when his eyes squeezed shut.

"Hei, hei, what’s wrong? Did something happen?" Toki asked, wrapping an arm around him.

"I abandoned her. I abandoned her," he wept quietly, "when she was a baby, I -”

When nothing coherent followed, Toki asked why.

“I… had been sleeping with this girl for a while, and when she got pregnant she wanted to keep the - keep the baby. I was still in school, but she could support us, so… I _tried_ to be there for them. We had the baby a couple of months before I graduated.”

“Hm?” Toki prompted when he fell silent.

“Once I did, I tried to get my breakthrough as a performing artist, but the short nights and the round the clock care for the baby while my girlfriend worked were making it impossible. They were holding me back, so I ran."

"Oh, no... That's very sad."

Toki could hardly imagine how painful it must be to be bereft of one of your parents because of something like that.

Skwisgaar nodded, and got out his phone to flip through his picture folders on the NAS. Scrubbing his eyes, he pulled up a picture of a fresh-faced and simply clad woman in her late twenties holding a baby. She had jaw-length sandy hair held out of her face by a bobby pin, and her pale blue eyes were alight with joy as she held a pretty six-month old girl with a head of white hair.

"Is that them?"

"Ja, that’s my little girl, and her mother Emmi."

"Is Emmi a musician, too?"

"No, a cell-biologist."

Studying the little girl’s delicate features and inquisitive blue eyes, Toki smiled.

"She's beautiful - she looks a lot like you. Look at those tiny hands!"

Skwisgaar pressed a fist against his mouth and looked away his shoulders shaking with silent grief.

"Do you miss them?" Toki rubbed his back.

"Sometimes." He whispered, leaning his head against Toki's, strands of their hair intertwining. "Sometimes I think of all the moments I'm missing out on, and how heavy it must be for Emmi to do this alone, knowing full well that I did this to us, to them. I’m carrying on with my life as if they never existed, and I fucking hate myself for that sometimes."

The stab of jealousy Toki felt about Skwisgaar having already lived that kind of life with someone else than him hurt more than he had anticipated.

In the silence that followed, all Toki could come up with were dumb, superficial questions.

"How does this tie in with the tabloid thing, though?"

Skwisgaar grimaced.

"I did not know about the other kids until those ladies sought the media. They were careless hook-ups, as far as I know. I guess now that I'm sort of in the public eye, they're going to want something."

"Emmi, too?"

She did not seem the type.

"No. I contacted her about an underhållsbidrag for the child when I started working here in Norway, but she did not want anything to do with me back then. The grief was still too near, I think. That, and she makes twice as much as I do." He smiled wryly through his tears.

Toki handed back the phone, feeling strangely empty and nauseous.

"Why did you want to keep this from me?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really. It's pretty normal to grieve for what you lost, if you ask me."

"I did not lose it, I threw it away, Toki! I was selfish and dumb, and it hurt all of us. She's going to grow up just like me, wondering why her dad did not love her enough to stay, and that makes me ashamed of myself - rightfully so!"

"I'm not going to love you any less for something you did a long time ago." Toki offered.

"As I said, this has nothing to do with you."

No, of course not. He was just a kid that walked into his life less than six months ago. What did he know?

 

*******

**Notes**

Dieser Mensch hört nicht auf zo reden lästerworte - This man will not cease uttering blasphemous words. Choral from the St. Paul oratorio by Felix Mendelssohn. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isn0Crn2tAU  From 2.02 minutes on.

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Hyggelig å møte deg." - Nice to meet you.

"Skwisgaar er kjæresten min." - Skwisgaar is my boyfriend.

Swedish

Underhållsbidrag - Alimony


	16. Ach, Ich fühl's, es ist verschwunden

"Who do you think taught Skwigelf how to scold us in Bokmål? When he had that terrible English accent it was easier to take what he said with a grain of salt...”

Toki looked up from where he was sitting at one of the little tables in the corridor. He was waiting for Skwisgaar to finish his administration since the end of Music Theory so they could walk home together. Toki had a bone to pick with him about his outrageous teaching methods.

Ronke approaching him was not something Toki would have expected in a million years, so he did not immediately respond. He was rather taken aback at being addressed without an insult in some form or other.

Closing his mouth and averting his eyes, he tried to swallow against his dry throat.

“Eh, yeah… this kind of makes him even worse, doesn’t it? Now you have to take him completely seriously.” He mumbled.

Ronke huffed a laugh and sat down opposite him, propping his cello against the wall.

“Do you mind?”

Toki shook his head, the pen in his hand hovering over his notebook. When he looked back up from his translation of Ezekiel Ronke was still staring at him, his pale face a little drawn.

“You’ve changed,” Ronke said quietly with a look at the Amon Amarth hoodie Toki was wearing.

“For the better, I hope.”

The scribbling of pens was the only thing that could be heard for a while. Clearing his throat, Ronke looked up from the score he was editing. The ends of his long hair obscured a part of the sheet, but Toki could make out the name Beethoven under the black strands.

“Word in Lillehammer is that you broke contact with your parents.”

Fishing a hair tie out of the pockets of his black jeans, Ronke gathered his hair in a ponytail.

“I still talk to my mother.” Toki corrected.

He found Ronke’s grey eyes harder to read than he remembered.

“But not your father?”

“… My father went too far this time. I couldn’t sacrifice any more things I love to his zeal.”

The regret in his eyes was acknowledged by a bitter expression.

“So last autumn, when you came to school with your face all…?”

Toki made a non-committal sound, looking out the window over the roofs of the city.

Ronke opened his mouth to speak a couple of times, but he seemed to have trouble finding the words.

“Is that what happened back in Videregående skole, then?” He asked quietly. 

Somewhere down the corridor a door opened, and Skwisgaar stepped into the hallway with his coat on. His eyes bored a hole into Toki’s head, silently asking if he were coming. Toki gave him the flat look that had come to mean ‘keep walking’ whenever either of them found themselves in unexpected company.

Toki let out a long exhale through his nose when he heard Skwisgaar’s footsteps in the stairwell.

“They knew, Ronk. That time they picked me up from your place… It must have been written on my face or something.”

Nodding slowly, Ronke gave him a wry smile.

“We were stupidly obvious. My mom sprung ‘the talk’ on me the moment you left after that first Chem assignment.”

Toki managed a snort at that.

“At least you knew what we were doing, then. I didn’t even know there were words for it.”

He had been unbelievably innocent and ignorant.

“I don’t think I fully realised at the time how… sheltered you were.” Ronke picked his words carefully. “Kind of made it difficult to comprehend why you cut me off like that. You played the whole conscientious objection very convincingly."

“Ja, my parents were not so understanding as yours, putting it mildly. But Ronk… I shouldn’t have given you up like that, no matter how afraid I was.”

Ronke bit his lip. Toki hated to think what he had done to him by making a deal with the devil to save his own hide.

“I’m sorry.”

He really was, to this day.

“Helvete, Tokes… I’m sorry about all the things I said. If I'd known...”

“No, I get it. The whole circumstance made it impossible to get closure.”

“Yeah." Ronke sighed. "I, eh… I’m glad we’re having this conversation now.”

“Me too. I think it was long overdue.”

Sitting a little straighter, Ronke pushed his score towards Toki.

_Sonata for Cello and Piano No. 3 in A major_ , Toki read.

“I’m hell-bent on playing this on my exam in May… but I need a really good pianist.” 

“Perhaps you should ask Skwigelf.” Toki teased.

“Would you want to work with him?”

“No, I wouldn’t, to be honest.”

“Which is exactly why you would be my first choice - if you’re interested.”

“You’re willing to trust me not to cock up your exam?”

“We’d have to practice and see, right?”

“Alright…” Toki said as he jotted down the opus number in his notebook. “I’ll listen to it and get back to you about whether I can play it. What’s your email?”

“I’ll write it down for you,” Ronke replied, drawing the notebook towards him and scrawling _kvlt-cellist@student.musikkhøgskolen.no_ upside-down on the page.

Toki laughed.

“What, was the username _cellosistkrieg_ already taken?”

“Fuck, why didn’t _I_ think of that one?” Ronke face-palmed. “I’m out of here. Let me know what you think.”

 

*******

"Don't git me wrong, Toki, I'm happy ye wanted to come along, but I cehn't help but wonder... Any particuler reason fer the change of heart?" Pickles asked over a glass of cheap wine and the polite chatter of their fellow students and faculty members.

Studying the tacky details of Pickles' awful light blue suit, Toki tore his eyes away from the thing he wore around his neck instead of a tie and took a gulp of his drink. It was a good question, and not so easily answered. Mostly, he wanted to forget about his ever-growing issues with Skwisgaar; whether by getting shitfaced, the distraction of pleasant company or both. He did not really care which.

"What ams you wearings around your neck?"

"It's called a bolo tie. I asked ye a question first."

"Honestlies, I needed to gets out of the house for a while."

This get together celebrating the beginning of the new semester was the first excuse he had had to go somewhere without Skwisgaar.

"Ugh, yeah, Nate told me Skwisgaar was absolutely impossible in class yesterday - even more than usual."

"It ament's just his fault, I guess.” Toki sighed. “Where two peoples fight, two ams to blame. I'ms not exactly the most accommodatings person either."

"How do yew mean?"

"I don'ts like this side of him where he am secretive and closed off on the best of days, but with the exams last week I just wanted him to fucks off, and I wasn’ts very subtle about it."

"What do yew care he's got a couple of kids? He's naht with them, or their mothers. He's with yew."

"The only reason he amen'ts is because he was too ambitious to stays. I'ms not a threat because we can'ts have kids together, but whats if he gets where he wants to bes with his career and wants something like that again? A families with a wifes and a kid?"

"Yer jealous." Pickles seemed surprised.

"Damn right, I'ms jealous. I mean, haves you seen them? The baby ams so precious and she ams real cutes..."

“Eh, no, I haven’t.”

Toki had copied the picture of Skwisgaar's one-time family off the NAS to brood over. He knew that was a creepy and dumb thing to do, but he had a hard time getting over it.

Pickles took his phone to squint at it.

"Eh, first of all: yer a dumb dooshbag for mopin’ over that picture, and secondly... Dood. I don't know if ye've noticed, but that's yew - if ye were a lady. Theht chick could've been yer sister or somethin'."

He angled the screen so Toki could take another good look.

"Holy shit, you's right!"

"Shit..." Pickles whistled. "I mean, I don't want to imply anythin', but..."

"I'ms a fuckings substitute," Toki groaned, hanging his head.

He knew there had been something more to someone like Skwisgaar falling in love with a plain kid like him.

"Dood, no! I was going to say he has a type ehfter al!"

"Yeah, rights." Toki replied bleakly.

He was an idiot, and his relationship was a joke.

"Hello, boys."

Turning around, Toki almost overlooked Offdensen. He had traded his customary tweed tenue de ville for a sharp looking black suit and red tie, which was a sight different, but no less distinguished.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Hey Charles." Pickles greeted with familiarity.

Toki supposed that ten years at the faculty would put him on a first name basis with most of the staff.

"So, are you both ready for the, ah, new semester?" Offdensen inquired awkwardly, holding a glass of brandy.

Nodding, Toki replied: "If I've passed my exams."

"I'm sure you have, you've been doing good so far, am I right? How about you, ah, Pickles?"

"Eh, there's actually somethin' I wanted to talk to yew about regarding theht... Do ye mind, Toki?"

"No, it's cool."

Walking off in the direction of the bar, Toki felt the overwhelming urge to call his mother, but he had no idea how she would handle him pouring his heart out about his relationship, or what she thought of it at all. After downing a longdrink glass that was half vodka half juice, he found himself listening to his phone ringing in the quiet, dark hallway with another glass in his hand.

"Anja Wartooth."

"Hei mamma, it's me."

"It's ten in the evening on a weekday; could you call back another time?" She asked with a lowered voice and a hint of reprimand.

A little slow on the uptake, Toki agreed.

"Of course, I don't know what I was thinking. I apologise."

"I don't know what sort of life you are used to now, young man, but I would appreciate it if you retained at least some of your upbringing."

"Sorry to bother you. Good evening, mother." He sighed, and hung up.

Maybe he was imagining it, or maybe it was the long winter, but he got the feeling that the world was slowly turning darker and colder around him. Unwilling to go back and mingle with the rest of the faculty he remained in the hallway, reading the notices on the pin board without really registering the information.

Downing the drink in his hand made him a little unsteady on his feet, so he slid down the wall to sit on the cool tiles for a moment. A part of him wanted to go home, crawl in bed with Skwisgaar and pretend he was still oblivious, but unfortunately both of them had trouble doing that at the moment.

Closing his eyes, he tried to summon the bright and colourful fantasy world he liked to escape into when his mind became a dark and unpleasant place, but it was not easy today. Nausea made his head reel as he tried to keep down his liquor, but thankfully a door opening and light spilling in the hallway offered a distraction.

The silhouettes of Pickles and Offdensen slowly made their way in his direction, and Toki watched them stop and talk in the light that spilled in from a window. He vaguely wondered if Pickles was truly going to get serious about graduating when a new wave of nausea crashed over him and the urge to throw up made him stumble to the nearest bathroom.

Pickles walked in to pull his hair out of the way as he heaved, and patiently waited until he was done before offering him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

"Better?" He asked, and Toki nodded. "C'mon."

Rummaging in his coat pocket, Pickles ordered him to hold out his hand.

"What's dis?" Toki slurred, trying to focus on the round white pill with a smiley stamped onto it.

"Aspirin. Go git a glass o’ water."

After downing it, Toki returned to his side. Pickles was caught up in a discussion with Offdensen and the Ethics professor with his pale red curls and ugly mustard coloured jacket. Unable to summon the mental capacity to contribute to the discussion, Toki contented himself with studying their faces as they spoke. Their sharp, intelligent eyes sparkled behind their glasses as they conversed, and Pickles offered abstract insights on the topic the professors had clearly been debating for a while.

When Toki lost track of the topic altogether, he contented himself with plucking lint off Pickles' suit. Pickles gently batted his hand away and checked his watch, announcing that it was time to go home.

"See you next week, Terje. Goodnight, Charlie!" He greeted jovially.

"Good night, Charlieee," Toki stifled a giggle. “Terje.”

A hand at his elbow steered him away from the professors. Taking his coat from Pickles but not putting it on, Toki skipped out into the snow.

"Hei Pickle, ams it part of the job description to be hasing red hairs and ugly suits to becomes a philosopher or was that a coinskidence?"

Pickles chuckled, but did not reply.

"Woulds be funs if you gots like an admission requiresment what saids you couldn'ts become one if you don'ts gots no red hair. And forcings you to wears ugly suits. I thinks ugly suits am not just limited to philosophers though. I don'ts get why Offdensen wear that dismal plaid - no, what's ams that word? - _tweeds_ all the time when he got suits like this in his closets. Dids you ever sees whats my parents made me wear for formal? Oh boy, thats marked me a fundamentalist from a kilometre away. I means, it looked right on my dads, because he _is_ a fundalsmentist, but-"

"Toki?"

"Yeah?"

"Yew feelin' any better?"

"Yups. I feels wonderful. Oh wowee, I can'ts wait to get home."

He picked up his walking speed, almost slipping on the snow in his oxford shoes.

"Oh yeah? Why is theht?"

Pickles’ voice made him turn around.

"I'ms goings to hug Skwisgaar so much. I'ms so in love with him, you has no idea." Toki gave him a wide smile.

"You do theht - theht sounds like an excellent idea."

"Thanks you for bringings me along tonight, Pickle. Is beens a great evenings. Stop walkings, I's going to gives you a hug."

"Why don't yew wait until we get to your place, eh? It's pritty cold out."

Once inside the front yard, Toki wrapped himself around his friend in response to the fuzzy happiness that filled his chest to bursting.

"Alright buddy, I'm going to go. Why don't you ring the doorbell so Skwisgaar kin let yew in?"

"Ja, okay." Toki said, rubbing his face against the dreadlocks on top of Pickles' head.

"Remember to tell him all those things yew said to me earlier."

"Ja, I will!"

Pickles disappeared right before Skwisgaar appeared in the doorway, backlit by the light spilling out from the hallway. He looked stern but so majestic, and Toki was sure that he only needed a little love to lighten up. He hugged Skwisgaar tightly, a sound of delight escaping him at the physical contact. He definitely would not mind getting a piece of him later on.

"You smell like booze and puke. Have you been out with Pickle?" Skwisgaar asked stiffly.

"Was a faculty thing. It wasn't a lot of fun, and I got a little sick, but Pickle made me better. I'm real excited to see you again, wowee." He squeezed Skwisgaar a little tighter. "I feel like I want to make out with you all night."

"Let's go inside."

Toki shuffled after him without letting him go.

"Hmmm, Skwisgaar, I'm so in love with you... "

"Toki, you're drunk."

"No, I'm not." He insisted. It had been a while since his last drink. "I think you're so very sweet - just let me love you." He crooned.

Tilting his chin with a finger, Skwisgaar peered into his eyes. When Toki tried to kiss him, he pulled away.

"What did Pickle give you to make you better?"

"Aspirin. It had a smiley face on it." Toki remembered.

"Ugh, Toki, you naive fucking child."

Skwisgaar let go of his face and struggled out of his embrace. Pulling out his phone, he furiously stabbed at the touchscreen.

"Pickle, whats de fuck dids you give Toki? No, seriouslies, this amen'ts funny. XTCs? Ja, brilliants fuckins idea. No, I don'ts like him betters this way! Can you stop laughings? I gots to deal with him when he run out of serotonins, too! Don'ts mess with him like dat again."

Pushing a glass of water into his hands, Skwisgaar glowered at him.

"Why are you angry?" Toki asked.

"I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are. You won't even kiss me."

"Drop it, Toki."

"Is it because I remind you of Emmi?" He surprised himself by dropping that bombshell right there and then. "I guess I'm a pretty poor substitute, right?"

"Where the fuck did you get that idea?" Skwisgaar's mouth twisted into a grimace. "You're high as a fucking kite and you threw up, I just think that's gross."

Toki’s mood dropped drastically, the fuzziness dissipated like soap bubbles.

"To be honest, I hadn't expected you to get tired of me this quickly, but ever since that kids business you've been making me feel like an intruder in your life." Toki went on, fuelled by Skwisgaar's rejection and obvious distaste.

"Jesus Christ, will you stop talking like that?" 

"If you stop swearing at me." Toki said sadly.

"You should have known better than to take anything from Pickles, alright? You're talking out of your ass because you're tripping balls, and I'm not going to talk to you when you're like this."

"I wasn't talking out of my ass when I said I love you." Toki pouted. "Why don't you want to hear that?"

If his jaw had not been clenching so badly, his lower lip might have started trembling.

"Just... go to bed. Drink some water and try to sleep. You're already crashing, so I'm warning you: if you're going to start crying, you're sleeping somewhere else."

"This is bullshit, I was being nice!" He protested, his heart thudding irregularly in his chest.

"No, you were being a clingy, gross child. Go brush your fucking teeth and sleep."

Sleep did not come between the tears leaking from his eyes at irregular intervals and the way he could not seem to stop grinding his teeth, and though he tried not to make any sound, Skwisgaar still kicked him out of the bed.

He played guitar in the study past dawn, and only when he heard Skwisgaar go downstairs and leave for work, he crept back into the bed, loathing himself and Skwisgaar in equal measure.

 

*******

It was too late to hide the letters when Toki entered the house and closed the door behind him with a quiet snick, but then again, he did not really believe that trying to keep hiding things from him was the way forward. There was a chance Toki would go straight upstairs to study in silence and avoid him for now, but they were going to have to talk eventually. Socked feet shuffling into the living room made Skwisgaar raise his head from his hands. Toki gave him the bleak little smile that had been all he had been able to manage this week.

"I'll be upstairs." He said quietly, disappearing back into the hallway.

Static noise from the amplifier was followed by an open chord and an adjustment in volume, since Toki preferred to play less loud than Skwisgaar. He stuck with black metal because he was comfortable with it, too uncertain about his abilities to give in to Skwisgaar's attempts to get him to move on to technical death metal. He did not get how Toki enjoyed playing that racket without blast beats at his back, but admittedly he had an aptitude for it. The mournful chord progressions came to life under his hands, filling the house with Toki's dark and oppressive mood.

Remembering the things Toki had said about feeling like an intruder in Skwisgaar's life, he realised that his inadequate attempts at shielding the mistakes from his past from Toki was not doing their relationship any favours. Hadn't Toki said that the way Skwisgaar handled his problems would influence the way Toki thought about him more than whatever he had done in the past? And all he was doing now was being an asshole to everyone to vent his own shame and frustration with being unable to change the past. Something had to change if he wanted to stop Toki from slipping away from him.

In Skwisgaar's opinion Toki had gone through enough shit to last him a lifetime the past months, but it would be stupid to lose him altogether in a misguided attempt to protect him. Unsure whether Toki was actually mature enough to be handling this kind of pressure on their relationship, there was nothing for it but to trust him to make the judgement calls about what he could and could not handle himself.

Heavy steps led Skwisgaar up the stairs towards the study, where Toki sat in the desk chair with his Explorer in his lap, engrossed in tablature that read 'Marduk' in scribbled marker. His left hand felt out the chords on the frets quite smoothly now; he did not stare at it while he played anymore.

He was achingly pretty even if he did not smile, with his high cheekbones, his big eyes and the glossy, straight hair slipping forward over his shoulders. There was a little razor rash on his jawline where he shaved too frequently for his patchy facial hair, but otherwise his pale skin was smooth. Skwisgaar's fingers twitched with the urge to feel out all of those features, but he did not know whether his touch would be welcome right now.

"Toki." He said into the silence after Toki muted the strings. "I want to talk to you, if you've got a minute."

Downstairs, Toki made a detour to the kitchen to make himself tea while Skwisgaar went back to his mail. Halfway through reading the first letter again, a mug on a coaster slid towards him from the far side of the table.

"Thanks. Come sit with me for a second..." He implored.

Toki sat down and waited without a word. He had his curiosity under lock and key ever since the tabloid debacle, and Skwisgaar suspected his dopamine and serotonin levels had still not bounced back from his brush with MDMA. He was a ghost of his former self.

Skwisgaar had no idea how to fix him, but he hoped that being upfront with Toki about what was going on would at least fix his feelings of exclusion.

"I, huh, got a court-order to verify my paternity of a couple of kids from the Swedish Ministry of Justice."

"A couple." Toki echoed in a hollow voice.

"Turns out the article has drawn out some more ladies who think I knocked them up."

"How many are we talking about?"

"Five children."

"And those ladies want you to pay child support."

"Yes, that's what it will come down to, since I don't want custodian rights to any of them. And, huh..." He indicated the second letter. "If I am indeed the father of all of them, then I've raked up a huge debt with the Försäkringskassan."

At Toki's puzzled expression, he explained.

"It's the organisation that handles social security in Sweden."

"Right. Sorry to hear that." Toki said, lightly touching his arm. "How much is 'huge'?"

"1280 kroner per month per child for the time I've been employed and about half that for when I was still a student."

"How old are they?"

"Between eight and six years old."

"Holy shit, that's around... five hundred thousand kroner." Toki calculated in his head. "Can you manage that?"

"I can. The concerts gave me a decent buffer."

He only hoped that there weren't going to turn up any more. There was no counting how many women he had slept with in the past ten years. If he had to pay for all these children every month from now on, he was going to have to seriously lower his living standards or get another tour as soon as possible. Between his relatively high mortgage and five children, there would not be a whole lot left of his wages at the conservatory.

"You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help, won't you?"

"That won't be necessary." He would die of shame first before he had to ask Toki to get him out of financial trouble. "But you are sweet to offer."

He did not know how to ask what he _did_ need from Toki, but Toki had not lost his perceptiveness along with his spirit. Hesitantly grabbing his hand, Toki squeezed it.

"There's one thing I wonder, though..." he said, heartened by the fact that Skwisgaar had voluntarily confided in him.

"How could I be so stupid that many times?" Skwisgaar finished the question.

"What? No! I was going to ask what it's like to have all these different kids running around somewhere. Don't you wonder if there are things they've all got in common with you, or how they're more like their mothers? That kind of stuff. And what do you mean, stupid? That sort of stuff just happens, right?"

"Not if you wrap it. Or she uses birth control."

"Wrap... it?"

"Condoms, Toki! Please don't tell me the reason you never brought that up is because you don't know about sexually transmitted diseases." He exclaimed.

Toki's flustered and confused expression said enough.

"Come here, lilla dumbom," Skwisgaar smiled wryly, drawing Toki onto his lap. "You've got nothing to fear from me, because I get tested, but you should know that sticking your dick in people just like that is generally not a good idea." 

"Okay, so why didn't you... wrap it?"

"Because it feels better and I'm an asshole."

Toki hummed non-committally, picking at a nail.

"I'd probably want your children, if I was a girl." He said idly.

"Pffft. Better hope they would have your personality."

"Nothing wrong with yours."

"Are you serious? As if you haven't been constantly sad since you met me."

"You give yourself too much credit for my misery."

Sliding a hand under Skwisgaar's loose hair, he lightly - almost shyly - traced the skin of his neck. The tender touches set Skwisgaar alight with repentance, and he hooked the hair that curtained Toki's face behind his ear to kiss him like he deserved to be kissed: worshipfully.

 

*******

Skwisgaar seemed extremely distracted from the moment Toki walked into the rehearsal room for his piano lesson, and the little amount of prompting it took to get him to spill was a tell-tale sign of how wound up he was. When Toki waved away his protests of wasting lesson time, he produced his latest letter from the Försäkringskassan. Toki had not expected any of the women to be lying, but seeing it black on white that his boyfriend had five more children besides the one daughter he had acknowledged suddenly made it very real that Skwisgaar was in deep shit.

Sitting down on the swivel stool facing away from the piano, he looked up to where Skwisgaar slumped in the windowsill.

"I'm such an idiot, Toki." He breathed.

"Save it. What does this mean for you?"

"I can pay off the debt right now, but it leaves me with very little in the way of resources. Most of my money goes towards paying off the house, and this amount of child support every month probably means I won't be able to keep it. I've got to think about finding something with a lower mortgage, so... we might be moving house in the near future."

Toki had actually meant to ask if he was going to file for visitation rights, but Skwisgaar was obviously more concerned about his financial situation. Frankly, it did sound worrisome.

"Skwisgaar, you _are_ an idiot if you think I will stand by and watch you lose everything you've worked for. I work too, and I know you're too proud to accept it, but if we're ever going to be equal in this relationship you've got to let me contribute financially."

"Absolutely not, Toki."

"I like living in this house, too, and… you don't really want to put that Bechstein in a lorry." Toki slyly pointed out. 

"Pffft. It will survive." Skwisgaar said, but his eyes narrowed at the thought.

"I'm going to be really pissed if you keep treating me like a child who has nothing to offer."

Folding his arms, he glared at Skwisgaar for good measure.

"That isn't what I'm doing at all! I just don't want you to be working for my past mistakes!"

"Your kids, Skwisgaar! You're talking about little persons with feelings, alright?"

"My point still stands." He shrugged.

"You've got to let me help you - like you helped me!"

"You don't owe me anything for that, Toki."

"It's not about owing anyone anything."

Toki stood up and crowded him against the window, boring his eyes into Skwisgaar's.

"It's about how serious you are about this." He said slowly, deliberately. "About us. Because I'm dead serious, and maybe that's more than you bargained for, but right now we had better get on the same page about this."

"I don't deserve you." Skwisgaar said with quiet protest.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I am exactly what you need sometimes."

"Yes, you are." He admitted, looking down at Toki with hooded eyes and a faint colour rising in his cheeks.

Glancing at the tiny clock Skwisgaar kept to time his lessons, Toki decided that the risk of being walked in on was not that big, and he surged up to crush his lips onto Skwisgaar's.

A hand under his ass and at the back of his head drew him in as close as possible, and the needy sound escaping Skwisgaar as they shared a wet, hungry kiss made him long they were anywhere but at the conservatory right now.

Breaking away, he tried to slow his breathing while he adjusted his clothes.

"Did you, huh, still want to play?" Skwisgaar jerked his head at the piano.

"Probably better if your next student finds us engaged in lessons rather than intercourse..." Toki laughed.

"Go on then. I've been waiting all week to interfere with how you play this."

"How admirable that you've been able to keep it to yourself."

"The things I do for love." Skwisgaar murmured, bending to kiss Toki's neck as he set out his score on the music rack.

 

*******

**Notes**

Ach, Ich fühl's, es ist verschwunden. Ewig hin der Liebe Glück!  - Ah, I feel it, it has disappeared. Forever gone love's happiness! Aria from Die Zauberflöte by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DBlB4789SE


	17. Tempest Sonata

"You're kidding, right?" Nathan looked intrigued as Skwisgaar pitched the idea during the break of the piano concert they had decided to attend last-minute. 

"Nots in de slightest." Skwisgaar set down his glass of wine on the high table with a serious expression. "Whats of dat do you think?"

"Hm. Huh. You know, that might actually be a really good idea. Me as a singer, Pickles on drums..." Taking a gulp of his beer, Nathan motioned for Skwisgaar to keep talking.

"... me as a guitarists, Moidaface on bass, and Tokis can roadie for us."

"Hei!" Toki gave Skwisgaar a playful smack to the back of his head.

"Dude, nots de hair!"

Skwisgaar ran a finger through it to try and comb the loose strands back in place, but ended up mussing it further.

"I'lls mess up your hair however I likes." Toki smirked, drawing him closer by his tie.

"Guys, stow the foreplay." Abigail rolled her eyes. "Save it for one more hour - you're in polite company."

Giving an unapologetic shrug, Skwisgaar went back to his conversation with Nathan.

"Easies for you to says, I gots to look at him walkings around in that suit with hims smug face and hims tight-" Toki affected a sound of despair.

"Excuse you, have you actually looked at Nathan in a suit? And I can still control myself, so take notes." Abigail winked.

Skwisgaar gave Toki a distracted smile from where he and Nathan fleshed out the details of starting up a metal band. Nathan was pushing for death metal covers, refuting Skwisgaar's suggestion they should launch into composing their own songs straight away. Willing to roll with whatever they decided since he was not really that adept at paying guitar yet, Toki kept out of the discussion.

"So whats you thinks about us playings some metals, Abigails?" Toki asked.

"It's generally not my kind of music, but you guys should have fun with it. Especially since you three, as classical musicians, hardly ever use your talent to create. So I guess looking for new forms to express yourself is always a good idea."

"That's a reals interesting ways of lookings at it. I does make up a lots of stuff when I play the piano for funs, but I never writes it down. Is just for me, or who I's playing it for at that moments, I suppose." He took a moment to stuff the cookie that went with his tea in his mouth. "I gots to ask - you gots a record deals, right? Ams you going to be writings your own musics when it come to recordings an album?"

"Hah! I've already got so much material lying around in the way of vocal lines and lyrics, you have no idea! If they told me to start recording tomorrow, I could probably make two albums. I mean, the instrumental arrangements still need to be finalised, but yeah, I've written most of it myself." Abigail's dark curls swayed as she nodded.

"Makes it very personal, don'ts it?"

Toki didn't know how he would feel about going public with something so private as the music that sprung from his own mind.

"Yeah, absolutely. That's why I'm minoring in sound engineering; I want to be on top of everything, the entire process."

"Amen'ts it scary to puts something out there whats you puts your hearts and soul in for everyones to listen to?"

"I try to look at it like this: if there's only one person out there who's positively affected by it, it'll be worth it. Of course I'm afraid of the critics, but if there are people inspired by it at all, it doesn't matter how many."

"Whats a beautiful things to says. I bet it's goings to be great."

"Aw, thanks babe. It's going to take a while before it's-"

The chiming over the tannoy announced that it was time to return to their seats.

"I gots to take a leak." Toki announced, knocking back the dregs of his tea.

"I'm coming along, I need to fix my hair." Skwisgaar said in Norwegian as he put a hand on the small of Toki's back and steered him towards the men's room.

Skwisgaar was still fussing with his curls in the mirror of the bathroom when Toki re-joined him to wash his hands.

"No one as good-looking as you should be allowed to be this vain." He commented while drying them.

"I'm not vain, I'm self-conscious." Skwisgaar protested.

Crowding into his space, Toki wrapped the lengths of Skwisgaar's hair around his fist and pulled back his head.

"Yes you are."

Toki bent him over the sink, grinding his hips minutely against Skwisgaar's ass.

"You're a stuck up, vain asshole who knows exactly what he does to other people."

Leaning on his elbows, Skwisgaar pushed back against him.

"Pffft. It's kind of hard to miss what I'm apparently doing to you right now."

A second set of chimes should have been their cue to hurry on to the concert hall, but Toki was having too much fun grinding his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of Skwisgaar's ass. A toilet flushing broke them apart with twin guilty expressions. Sticking his hands under the tap for the second time in panic earned him a chuckle from Skwisgaar, but it died in his throat when he too spotted the familiar face.

"Hey guys, great concert, isn't it? I'm especially loving this soloist." Magnus grinned at them through the mirror.

"Ja, you can says dat again," Skwisgaar agreed weakly while Toki put on his most innocent smile. "Enjoys your evenings."

"Oh, I will!" 

The door slowly swung shut behind Magnus.

"Well, at least that killed my boner. Let's go find Abigail and Nathan." Toki said, slapping Skwisgaar's ass in passing.

 

*******

Arriving home late from work due to an administrative backlog, Skwisgaar was surprised to find Toki still working. Seated on a chair, at a non-threatening distance from the piano, he tried to help a shy, Asian boy with black hair falling into his eyes to let go of his anxiety about playing in front of him.

Toki turned to give him a smile when he heard his socked feet on the floorboards, and Skwisgaar held his hand up in greeting in return, quietly making his way to the kitchen to see if he could make dinner.

Halfway through closely monitoring the vegetables that boiled on the stove, he heard Toki let the kid out. Usually parents came to pick his young students up, but Skwisgaar supposed this one was old enough to go by himself.

"Hei Skwis," Toki hugged him from behind when he entered the kitchen.

"Hallo elskede."

He closed his eyes briefly. Dropping the knife he used to prod the vegetables, he reached back to return the hug.

"I see you have a new student?"

"Yup. Hyo is a bit of a challenge - usually these kids are a lot more confident - but I'm sure we'll get along."

"He probably just needs to get to know you a little better. Give it time, and all that."

"Yeah. You need help with that, or shall I go pack our gear for the rehearsal?"

"Huh, how long do I need to boil the potatoes if I want to bake them afterwards?" He asked for what was probably the tenth time.

"You know what? Why don't you go pack our stuff?"

Toki stood on his toes to kiss his cheek, but Skwisgaar drew him close, revelling in the feel of his compact frame before fiercely kissing him. The hissing of potatoes boiling over made Toki giggle and shoo him out of the kitchen.

The first floor was dark and a little musty despite the chill, since neither of them had thought to open a window this morning, but there was no time for that as he made his way to the study. Opening the hard case that went with it, Skwisgaar took Toki's Flying V from the wall where it now hung side by side with his Explorer. Everyone had chipped in to get Toki his own guitar for his birthday a couple of weeks ago, and the second-hand Flying V Pickles had scouted in a music store turned out to be a perfect fit. Toki's unadulterated joy made him the perfect recipient of gifts; it had made Skwisgaar extremely happy to see him so excited. Unable to put it away for longer than five minutes, Toki had played the entire weekend - until one of his fingers began to bleed and Skwisgaar fixed it with a layer of superglue so he could continue his piano studies.

After a quick dinner Toki's excitement about rehearsing with their newly formed band reached new heights as they stepped into the crisp night air. The rehearsal space was conveniently located somewhere between Skwisgaar's house and Nathan's so they did not have to walk very far. Toki practically skipped the entire way. With him caught up in the thrill of the imminent get-together, Skwisgaar had some time to wonder where Toki found the time to take on new students and play both guitar and piano next to his primary studies. Playing guitar on the side was his own business, but Skwisgaar fervently hoped he did not feel obliged to work more now that they had joined their finances in order to keep living the way they were used to. Despite Toki's insistence that he wanted to be taken seriously as a partner and should be allowed to bring in what money he could, Skwisgaar still felt like a piece of shit for relying on his twenty year-old boyfriend to keep him out of debt.

Wasn't money trouble the kind of thing that wrecked relationships faster than anything? Especially the realisation that he was going to be stuck with the financial burden of his children for the next nine to eleven years made the future a little bleak. There was so much that could go wrong with this arrangement as they had it now. If they ever split up, Toki would have nothing to show for whatever they had managed to build together. What Skwisgaar really needed was a new tour or playing concerts on the side, but even though Knubbler was doing his best to make it happen, there was no news in that area yet. Skwisgaar suspected he was waiting for the controversy around his client to die down before even trying. 

 

*******

"Hey dildos, can you two stop bickering for five minutes and help me with my gear? I've never had to use a microphone in my life - or an amplifier for that matter."

Nathan shouldered his way between Skwisgaar and Toki where they stood arguing over the mixing panel in the rehearsal room. Since Toki was going to be playing rhythm parts, Skwisgaar figured he could be turned down in the mix a little, like Murderface's bass. Toki was having none of it, fighting him tooth and nail.

"Your goilfriend's a sound engineers, don'ts tells me she couldn't have tolds you this." Toki said to Nathan, snatching the jack from his hands and plugging it into the panel. "You shoulds be hearings yourself from.... that monitors, so you mights want to stands over there with you microphone."

"How do _you_ know all of this crap?" Nathan grumbled. "We got you a guitar, like, three weeks ago."

"I likes engineerings and electro-technics. Goes figure."

"Dat you likes it don'ts make you goods at it." Skwisgaar said for good measure.

Toki really needed to back off and let him handle this if they did not want to end up sounding like a jumble of uncoordinated instruments.

"Take five ahn the bitching, Skwisgare." Pickles called from underneath the hired drum kit where he was fixing a pair of winged nuts.

"Yeah, Skwisgaar, take it easy. We know you've made Toki your bitch - you've got nothing to prove."

"You hears dat, Tokis?" Skwisgaar said. "You ams beings universally recognised as mine bitch, so-" 

The backhanded smack to his face came out of nowhere, splitting his lip on his teeth and filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. Pain made his eyes water before he could even register what had happened.

"Ikke noen gang kall meg det igjen," Toki said dangerously, eyes spitting fire. "Du vet at er ikke riktig."

Silence fell over the room as Skwisgaar raised his fingers to his lip and they came away bloody. Blinking furiously against his stinging eyes, he nodded. Perhaps it was because of the knowledge that Toki owned him in every way imaginable that he kept lashing out with words, but apparently he had pushed Toki too far this time. He had better try to curb his tongue from now on.

"Toki, come here for a second." Nathan beckoned him with a frown. "Look, I know you've probably had a bad example at home, alright - but that's not how you solve arguments. Whatever he says to you, that's fucking unacceptable, you hear me? What would you say if you saw me hit Abigail?"

Toki opened his mouth, but nothing came out as it dawned on him.

"So if I ever hear about you hitting Skwisgaar again, we're going to have words, you understand?"

Nodding, Toki turned around to give Skwisgaar a remorseful look.

"Jeg beklager, kjære..."

His big eyes swam with a mix of guilt and shock as he fully comprehended what he had done. Even though Skwisgaar really did not want Toki to touch him that moment, he accepted the arms around him because he felt like he was mostly to blame for Toki's outburst. The undercurrent of fear he had not recognised before ebbed as Toki rubbed circles on his back and laid his head against Skwisgaar's chest.

"I'm sorry, too." Skwisgaar mumbled, returning the hug with one arm so as not to get blood on Toki's clothes.

"I'll... get you something to clean your face." Toki murmured, looking back to him at the double doors of the rehearsal room with a conflicted expression.

Nathan moved into Skwisgaar's view, inspecting the damage.

"Bloodshed at our first rehearsal, and we haven't even played a note. Brutal." 

 

*******

The soft, warm skin under his hands was so enticing, and the sight of Skwisgaar's exposed chest in the late morning light had him incredibly aroused, but Toki felt unsure whether he had any right to make a move on him after last night. Skwisgaar seemed to still be asleep, his face buried mostly underneath the fuzzy waves and curls he had not tied back. Toki was reluctant to disturb him knowing that there was a big chance he would be rejected. Weighing his options, he considered stealthily jacking off while Skwisgaar slept, but discarded that notion just as quickly when he stirred.

"'Morgon." Skwisgaar said hoarsely, opening his eyes and brushing the hair out of his face.

"Heia elskede min."

Ignoring their mutual morning breath, Toki kissed him, mindful of his scabbed-over and swollen lip. There was a part of him that enjoyed how the split lip looked, not just for the vivid colours against pale skin, but the fact that he had marked Skwisgaar like that. Shoving down that cruel satisfaction because he knew it was wrong, he buried it beneath the conflicting feelings of tenderness and guilt it evoked in equal measure.

"How are you feeling?" Toki murmured in an attempt to address the hint of apprehension in Skwisgaar's eyes.

"Fine." He sighed softly, his gaze flicking to Toki's hands on his skin and his hips against his leg. "You want to fuck before I get out of bed?"

Relieved that Skwisgaar brought it up, Toki crawled over him. Fending him off by pushing the bottle of lube at him, Skwisgaar rolled onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his arms and closing his eyes. Toki wasted no time and nestled his hips between his legs, but took a moment to run his hand across every inch of bare skin until Skwisgaar arched his back to offer himself up. Steadying himself, he took care to take it slow when he sank his cock into the body underneath him, resisting the temptation to take what he wanted with no regard for how Skwisgaar liked it. Though it had been a process, Toki had learned that it was infinitely more satisfying to make him moan in complete surrender than to have him brace against impact.

When quiet breathing was all the response he got as he slowly rocked, Toki regretted assuming that this would be enough for Skwisgaar. Was he doing that thing again where he tried to keep Toki happy even though he did not feel like getting fucked at all?

Pulling out was torture, but he felt like he needed to address this.

"This isn't working for you, is it? I get the feeling you don't want this at all."

"I do." Skwisgaar said levelly, eyes still closed. "Go on."

God knew Toki wanted to, if the heavy throbbing between his legs was any indication, but he had to stop thinking with his dick.

"Look at me and tell me why I should."

"Go on, you know you want to." Skwisgaar evaded.

"Actually, I don't. Not like this."

Skwisgaar let himself be rolled over, reluctantly meeting Toki's eyes.

"You're not afraid of me or something, are you?" Toki asked carefully, guiltily. "You don't have to do this to... you know, appease me or something."

"No! It's not like that."

"Then what?"

"I just wanted to make you feel good, regardless..."

"I'm not going to lie, you totally did, but I'd rather not have this be a one-sided thing. I could just jack off, you know." 

At the risk of blue balls, Toki lay down next to Skwisgaar and pulled him in his arms.

"Sorry, this is a lot messier than I thought it would be."

"Don't worry about it. I'm good with this, too." Toki said, though his erection trapped between their bodies gave lie to his words.

When Skwisgaar sighed restlessly under his touch, Toki let him go.

"I'll go make some breakfast."

Skwisgaar did not bother to change out of his pyjamas, sitting straight down behind his piano after picking up a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Watching Skwisgaar gingerly put the cup to his busted lip while he ate at the table Toki wondered how he could have let his temper get away from him so badly that he had hit him. If not for Nathan pointing it out by comparing Skwisgaar to Abigail, Toki might not even have realised that this was domestic violence.

Sure, Skwisgaar had been insufferable, but he would just have to keep a tighter lid on his emotions when they quarrelled. At least now he knew he ran the risk of turning into the sort of man he hated - into his father - if he did not pay attention. He would never let that happen.

Going upstairs while gentle music filled the house, his hard-on was back before he consciously registered the decision to crawl back into bed. He petted the thick outline of his cock through his sweatpants as he angled for the lube and a towel, the urgency to get off coursing through his lower body like a deep ache. He took his time stroking himself, leisurely fucking up into his slick fist in the knowledge that Skwisgaar would not stop playing for the foreseeable future.

Suspending the moment before reaching the point of no return, he teased his cock until precum mingled with lube on his hand. He managed to steer clear of the violent power fantasy threatening to bubble up from the recesses of his mind, and a few last strokes across the head brought him to completion, languid satisfaction stilling his movements. 

  When he returned downstairs freshly showered with his arms full of books, Skwisgaar was completely engrossed in playing. Toki had to listen to his stomach growl on and off for the better part of an hour while he worked on his overdue end-assignment for the master seminar. He wanted to make Skwisgaar some food, but experience learned that he would not eat until he was done obsessing over whatever he was working on anyway. He usually let it grow cold or stale, even when Toki placed it within reach.

"Hei Tokis, how are things going at university?" Skwisgaar asked when he eventually came to sit at the table with a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Not entirely as planned." Toki confessed. "I, eh, failed the Greek resit, too, so I have to do that subject again next year. And I can't continue with the entire New Testament Exegesis programme, or Old Testament Exegesis 1 for that matter, since that's about the Septuagint rather than the BHS, so I had to skip ahead to Old Testament 2."

"I have no idea what you're referring to, but I'm guessing 2 is about Hebrew, then?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like you're making a mess of your curriculum." Skwisgaar said in his stern teacher voice.

"Yeah, I am, but I'm just working more instead - I'm not sitting on my ass or anything." Toki hurried to explain.

"That's not what I was getting at at all. I mean, I noticed you were working more, so I wondered where you were finding the time. Just wanted to make sure you weren't overburdening yourself again because of, you know, my situation."

"No, nothing like that. I think I've finally found a good balance between studies, music and work. I'm quite happy like this."

Toki shoved his laptop and books aside to focus his attention on Skwisgaar.

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"How are _you_ doing?"

"How do I look like I'm doing?" Skwisgaar asked flatly, with an undertone of sarcasm.

Studying him properly, Toki had to conclude he looked like hell with his split lip and harried expression.

"You look... like you got beaten up by your asshole boyfriend. For which I'm still so sorry-"

"You said that a million times last night. The fact that we're still together means that I was serious about forgiving you."

"-and I also think that the situation with your kids is bothering you more than you let on if I had to hazard a guess, which is probably why you are so irascible all the time."

Holding his gaze until Skwisgaar looked away and surrender softened his sharp features, Toki waited.

"You're right. It does bother me, and I'm taking it out on you again."

"Wouldn't you feel better if you got to know your children?"

"Toki, they're not my children! They happen to have half my chromosomes, but that does not make them mine other than that they're a huge financial burden to me for years and years!" Skwisgaar snapped.

The way he kept dismissing the topic really pissed Toki off.

"Stop being so goddamn autistic about it!"

He clapped a hand over his mouth at the realisation he had said that out loud.

"What did you just call me?" Skwisgaar asked sharply.

Taking offense as the best defence strategy, Toki met him head on.

"You need to hear me out about this. It's not doing you any favours to keep this detached mind-set about it, you've proven that. All I'm saying is, if you'd meet them, you would know who you're doing it for. You could-"

"Seriously?!" Skwisgaar took a deep breath, indignation written all over his face. "Why don't _you_ go see them, if you care so much. They're practically your step children, anyway."

"Of course I would come with you." Toki agreed to show that he was, in fact, dead serious about this. 

"That was sarcastic - I'm not doing that!" Skwisgaar shouted, and Toki could see he was close to his breaking point.

Instead of leaving him be Toki pushed him over the ledge.

"Why not? Give me one good reason, and I'll never bring it up again."

"Because I can't get attached to them and then miss them all the time when I'm not there!" Skwisgaar yelled. "Not after Vibeke - it... Why are you making me say this?!"

"I just want to hear you're not a completely heartless bastard. And I want you to admit that to yourself, too."

"Fuck you, Toki." His voice broke.

"You probably know this best, but wouldn't you at least have felt better if you had known your father's face? Or that there was someone else who cared about you out there - however far away - that you could talk to?"

"Stop..." Skwisgaar pleaded.

"Lenient healers create stinking wounds."

"Do not presume you can fix this."

"No, but _you_ can."

 

*******

It was interesting how one line of text had the power to haunt him all day while he worked, turning his knees to jelly every time it rang through his mind.

_'Mr Skwigelf, please report to Human Resources to discuss your terms of employment at 15.45 today. Regards, Ingeborg Hunstad, HR Manager.'_

The  email had spelled his doom in a single sentence this morning. Since it was not the season for job evaluation conversations, this could only mean one thing. They were on to him. 

After rescheduling with his singing students of the afternoon he made his way down to Human Resources with lead in his shoes.

"Do sit down, Mr Skwigelf." A fit, middle-aged woman with auburn flyaway hair said as he entered the office.

"You probably have some idea what this is about, but let me explain the situation to you. One of your colleagues has expressed his concern that your relationship with one of your students has crossed the boundaries of what we would deem appropriate here."

One of his colleagues - Magnus, Skwisgaar thought. Looking back, they had given him front row tickets to their budding relationship. He frequented the same venues and neighbourhoods as Skwisgaar, not to mention he had been teaching Toki while Skwisgaar was gone.

"What gave him that idea?" Skwisgaar asked, not bothering to pretend he did not know the identity of this particular colleague.

He tried to school his face to a neutral expression.

"The, ehm..." She pulled a piece of paper from the stack on her desk. "The fact that you appear to be living together, among other things. Is that true?"

Though she seemed neither openly disapproving nor judgemental, she was not beating around the bush.

Skwisgaar could not deny it. There was no way he could get away with publicly renouncing his relationship with Toki at this point, nor did he want to.

"It is." He admitted.

Panic flared through his body at the sudden realisation that when he had told Toki 'fuck my job' in response to potentially losing his it over taking him in, they had been in an entirely less complicated situation financially.

"I probably don't have to tell you that beginning a relationship with a student is a violation of our code of conduct for the staff?"

Skwisgaar shook his head.

"No, I know."

"Then you also know that we're going to have to let you go, regardless of your outstanding reputation as a teacher and musician."

Taking a deep breath, he could not help trying to see if begging would save his ass at this point.

"Please, we are two consenting adults in a committed relationship - it's not as if I'm taking advantage of my position for… you know."

"We can't make any exceptions for you, Mr Skwigelf. Unfortunately, there is no arbitrary line between what types of relations we can and can't allow between staff and students. It's like you said, we cannot determine if either of you is taking advantage of the other, and we don't want our school's reputation to be damaged by sweeping this under the carpet for the media and the inspection to find. That's what the code of conduct is for, so we're going to terminate your contract effective immediately. Sorry to make an example out of you, but we really cannot condone this."

Looking away, he fought the tide of overwhelming hopelessness. How was he going to tell Toki this?

"I understand." He whispered.

"If you would kindly gather your belongings and hand in your keys, I will begin the paperwork."

Unclipping them from his keychain, Skwisgaar handed them over.

"I don't believe I have anything to pack." He said, glancing at the leather bag at his feet.

"In that case, I want to thank you for your work for this institution, and again, I'm sorry we have to part ways over something like this."

She seemed genuinely regretful to send him away. 

"Me too, but... it's worth it, I suppose." He managed a bleak smile.

He was not even sure if what he said was true. The time he and Toki had been carelessly happy together - without the ongoing fights and complications they struggled with now - had been all too brief in his mind. Would their mutual attraction hold true while they fought to unite their polar opposite personalities? Not to mention overcome the obstacles their regrettable pasts kept throwing at them?

"There's that." She smiled wryly. "I wish you best of luck finding new employment."

"Thanks. What... huh... will happen to my students?"

"I suppose they will be divided among your colleagues."

"Hm. Between you and me... I think it would be best if Toki Wartooth would be assigned to Mr Selftcark."

The stab of jealousy physically hurt, thinking about somebody else taking over Toki's education as a pianist. There was no doubt in Skwisgaar's mind, however, that if he ended up under Magnus' tutelage there would be a reckoning.

Searching his gaze, Ingeborg nodded.

"I'll make sure that information gets passed on."

Even though the five years he had worked at the conservatory had not always been happy, Skwisgaar found it hard to process that it was over. Stuffing the ends of his ponytail in the hood of his parka, he stepped outside into the blistering cold of late afternoon.

Silent conversation and pairs of snow-crusted children's and women's boots on the doormat reminded him that Toki must still be in the middle of teaching.

Sticking his head into the living room to say hello he got a smile from Toki and a wave from the little girl who liked to dress in the same muted colours; even her tall black boots were vaguely reminiscent of Toki’s. When he turned around to head upstairs and begin a job hunt at the computer he almost bumped into the au pair emerging from the bathroom.

"Hello you," She said in her pleasant, sultry voice as she looked him up and down.

"Hei." He replied, holding the door to the living room for her.

"You never called."

Her dark eyes were full of promise of what would happen if he did.

"I'm taken." He jerked his head at Toki.

She snorted.

"So?"

 Her cheeky giggle was infectious as she stared up at him, but he laughed it off and ascended the stairs.   

 

*******

**Notes**

Tempest Sonata by Ludwig von Beethoven. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeHA6cnAoRs

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Ikke noen gang kall meg det igjen. Du vet at er ikke riktig." - Don't call me that again. You know that is not right.

"Jeg beklager, kjære..." - I'm sorry, darling...

 


	18. Music for a while

A shivering and sweating Skwisgaar had driven Toki out of bed early on Saturday morning for an unusual supply run. Skwisgaar had been unable to leave the bed for the past two days, and Toki suspected he had contracted the nasty flu that was going around from one of his little students. The fact that he was so sick with it was a sign that months of stressing out about anything and everything had finally caught up with him since he got fired earlier that week.

Toki had done his best to soften the blow for him by being supportive and optimistic when Skwisgaar gathered the courage to tell him, but that hardly had any influence on how badly he beat himself up about it.

"Toki?" Skwisgaar had asked when they curled up on the couch after dinner with a blizzard raging around the house.

"Hm?"

Marking the page in his Biblia Hebraica with the golden cord, he had looked up. Skwisgaar had been unusually quiet today, but Toki had let him stew until he was ready to talk.

"Remember when I said 'fuck my job'?" He grimaced.

"Yeah - we weren't even dating back then. You made me whiskers with a pen. Boy, that was hard to clean off the next day." Toki laughed despite the fact that he knew what was coming.

"Ja, huh… about that... we got found out."

With the way they had been flaunting their relationship in public lately, it was not that much of a surprise.

"Tough. What did they say?"

"I got fired immediately."

Toki suppressed a wince.  

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know you weren't terribly keen on that job, but that's got to sting."

Skwisgaar nodded wordlessly, and Toki put away his book to wrap his arms around him. Dropping his head onto Toki's shoulder, Skwisgaar squeezed him back.

"It's so pointless, nobody wins in this situation. Not the school, not my students...certainly not us."

"Well, the one who ratted us out sort of won." Toki pointed out.

"That fucking dildo Magnus, most likely. I bet he's having a little revenge party all by himself as we speak." Skwisgaar said bitterly. "God, I've been so stupid about everything for so long, and lately it's like my entire life is tumbling down like a fucking house of cards."

Toki kissed his wheat-blond hair.

"It sucks, but we'll work it out. Maybe this is a nice opportunity for you to find work you can take more pleasure in - though believe it or not, I'm going to miss having lessons from you."

Snorting, Skwisgaar pressed his lips against Toki's cheekbone.

"I can bitch about your playing just as well from the couch."

"Makes it feel kind of pointless for me to go back there, as well."

"Don't even think about it." Skwisgaar protested. "You're going to go back tomorrow and get that goddamned piece of paper. No, seriously, it will help if you were ever planning to apply for the full time education."

"Somebody had better make sure I don't have to take lessons from that douchebag Magnus, then."

"It was the last thing I did."

"You know me too well." Toki said.

"Next thing we know I'm unemployed and you're in jail. Can't have that."

"In jail? What do you take me for?" Toki put on his most innocent expression, widening his eyes at Skwisgaar.

"I think I have a fair idea what you are capable of, Toki Wartooth."

Mr Selftcark had turned out to be a hell of a lot nicer substitute for Skwisgaar than Mr Hammersmith. The frumpy older man was positive and encouraging yet demanding, like how Toki imagined Skwisgaar would have been if he had actually liked teaching - or people, for that matter. In a way, Toki did not terribly mind making the switch; different teachers had different perspectives on his playing, so he saw it as an opportunity to learn twice as fast. It would have been nice if he had more time to practice, but today it would have to wait.

Making his way to the dark bedroom with a cutting board doubling as a tray, the sound of Skwisgaar trying to cough up a lung alerted him that he was awake.

"You sound awful," Toki remarked as he used his elbow to open the door.

"I _feel_ awful." Skwisgaar croaked. "I'm hurting all over and when I'm not hallucinating it’s all I can think about."

"Well, I'm going to take care of you today, since you've obviously done a piss poor job of that. When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't want to eat."

"Skwis."

"Pfff... Thursday morning."

Setting down the tray, Toki opened the curtains to snowflakes gently floating on the breeze outside.

"You know what, you don't need to eat, just drink that -" He indicated the glasses he had placed on the nightstand. "and take those pills-"

"I'm not taking any pills from you, you can't tell the difference between aspirin and XTC." Skwisgaar laughed hoarsely.

"Well, I didn't get them from Pickle this time. The lady at the pharmacy seemed a reliable enough source of information." Toki grinned.

"Show me the box and I might consider it."

"Here."

Toki hopped on the bed next to him, taking a damp washcloth to his sweaty face and re-doing his loose braid while he inspected the information leaflet.

"You're going to want to take it in this order; first the paracetamol, then the glass with the fizzy water - that's for the cough, by the way - because that tastes like ass, and then the green stuff."

"I'm honestly most suspicious of the green stuff. What is that even?"

"You'll see, it's delicious." 

"Toki..."

"If you take this without whining like a baby I'll read you this awesome book I picked up."

"Are those shredded _leaves_ in it?"

Skwisgaar put on his glasses to frown at it up close.

"Look, it's got a dragon on the cover." Toki waved the book in front of his nose. "I'll read you the summary and then you can decide whether you want to be weak and bored for the rest of the day or whether you're going to listen to me."

Skwisgaar made an unhappy noise.

"Here it goes." Switching to English, Toki turned read the back cover. "Wizard's First Rule, by Terry Goodkind. In the aftermath of the brutal murder of his father, a mysterious woman, Kahlan Amnell, appears in Richard Cypher's forest sanctuary seeking help..."

Gulping noises confirmed that his bribery had worked.

"That wasn't so bad, I guess."

"I knew there's nothing you won't do for dragons."

"Pfff, I'm more stoked for the wizards in this case, but yes. What was in the smoothie?"

Toki grinned.

"Spinach. Banana. Eh, lime juice, almond milk and dates. Oh, and peanut butter."

"Hva faen?!"

"Admit it, it's delicious. Your pickiness is as much a control thing as a taste thing."

"Hm, possibly."

Putting his glasses back on the nightstand, Skwisgaar laid his head in Toki's lap with a sigh.

"Okay. Bring on the trollkarlar."

Toki read to him for the better part of the day, switching to lying on his stomach when his ass grew numb, and rolling over onto his back when his elbows started to ache. By the time the first mention of wizards was made, his voice grew hoarse.

"It was Zedd who broke the silence first. ‘It is dangerous for a Confessor to travel alone, dear one. Where is your wizard?' Ugh, sorry Skwis, I need a break from this reading."

"That's alright, I could use a nap. Have I told you lately that I really love... the way you take care of me?"

Smiling widely, Toki smoothed a hand across Skwisgaar's fuzzy hair.

"I would kiss you, but I'm a biohazard."

"That's alright, I have great immunity."

Toki kissed him all over his fever-flushed face.

 

*******

"Ugh, fucking folk metal." Nathan grumbled as they watched Toki get dragged into the emerging wall of death at the instigation of the tiny but fierce Russian singer. "What are we doing here again?"

They had been arguing the gender of Arkona’s vocalist because the screams threw Nathan off, but Skwisgaar would recognise a lady anywhere, even under a layer of sweat and dead foxes. Taking a few steps back, they watched the crowd in front of them part into two lines and rush at each other at full speed as soon as the music broke loose. Toki held his own very well amidst the mostly burly and tall metalheads shoving each other around, and he took to moshing like a duck to water. So far his first festival was a great success.

 "Ah, shuts up, Nathans. I was going to take Tokis to de forst festival in towns - you guys all decides of you own volition to come with when you gots wind of it. Don'ts blames dis on me."

Pickles and Murderface interrupted their bickering by arriving with a tray of beers.

"Where'sch Toki?" Murderface asked, holding up the remaining beer while his eyes searched for their fifth band member.

"Prahbly beatin up sahm' unwitting dooshbags. Did anyone bother teh tell 'im yer naht supposed teh actually kill anyone?" Pickles chuckled.

"Ja, I thoughts dat woulds be prudent..." Skwisgaar smirked. "Dids I ever tells you about de times Toki cames to hims forst music theory class and gots into a fights five minutes after de other students arrivings?"

"Yeah," Nathan and Pickles said at the same time.

"He'sch a real go-getter, that kid." Murderface snorted.

"If by go-gitter ye mean a bipolehr loonatic. No offence, Skwisgare. I remember when I met 'im, I accidentally bumped into him at the bookstore. Ye shoulda seen his face. And then just like that we were pallin' around at his place. He's so freakin' intense about everything, I'm half expecting him to becahm rilly depressed at sahm point."

“Ja, he _was_ , after you gives him dat XTC what used up all hims dopamine. Nots his fault, though.”

"Pickles, don't be an asshole. He's just a little fucked in the head because of his dad, I mean, if you get beat up a lot you start thinking it's okay to do that to other people as well, right? He's not a bad kid."

"That's naht what I'm saying, I like him, too. He's just gaht this violent streak that kind of creeps me out sahmtimes. Like that first rehearsal." He turned towards Skwisgaar. "Did he ever... you know?"

"Hits me again?" Skwisgaar asked with narrowed eyes. "Whats you takes me for?"

He did not like where this conversation was going one bit.

"Toki ams a greats kid what don'ts desorve to be talked about like dis. Dat's all I'ms goings to says abouts it." He said, crossing his arms. 

"Yeah, moving on..." Nathan came to his aid. "What's the next band?" He mumbled, leafing through the booklet. "Finntroll? What the hell kind of name is that? They had better not have any more fucking flutes or violins. Hm, at least the headliner seems okay."

"Okay...? You's goings to calls de greatest bands in de woild 'okay' to my face?" 

"Oh, shut up, Skwisgaar, a folk metal band can't be the greatest band in the world per definition."

"Pffft. You just waits. When Wintersun blow you minds, we wills sees who ams rights all along. Besides, am more like melodic death metals dan folk anyways. Oh, I gots to take dis..."

Fishing his phone from his pocket, he quickly made his way out of the noisy venue.

"Knubblers, just de porson I wanteds to hear from." He said by way of greeting when he found a quiet spot outside.

"Hey Skwisgaar, how are you doing, babe?"

"Ugh. Pretties frustrateds, to be honest. None of de schools I apply to ams hirings - or they's just not hirings me - so I'ms dead out of luck. Don'ts really gots no other skills dan piano playings and raggings on other people's playings, either. Between dat thing about my kids and my relationships with Toki gettings out I'ms pretty shores my reputations am shot to hell. Not to mention dat dismissal look terribles on my resume."

"Yeah, the controversy is making things a little difficult at the moment, but you'll see that in a while the most people will remember is your name, and you'll be alright. There's no such thing as bad publicity, and all that - which is kind of what I'm calling about. I've got good news and less good news for you."

"Hits me."

As long as it balanced each other out a little he could not sink much lower at this point.

"Well, the people we worked with last time were definitely pleased about you, so they're willing to offer you a big European tour next autumn. Sounds good, right?"

"Huh… ja."

"The bad news being, of course, that you're not going to see any money for that particular endeavour before this summer. So you've got a couple of months to bridge."

"Alrights... you shores dere amen'ts any work I can does sooner?"

"Sorry babe, I'm trying. I know things must be rough for you right now, but don't give up, okay?"

"I'ms kind of out of options here." He suppressed a sigh.

"You can always apply for unemployment benefits, you know that, right? It might even help your situation with the kids. A little birdie told me that the amount of alimony you have to pay gets reduced when you're unemployed, so think about it."

"… I wills. Thanks you, Knubblers. Dis make me a little less hopeless."

No less humiliated, but at least he had something to work towards, now.

The smell of beer and sweat pervaded his nose as Toki snuck up to hug him from behind.

"There you are! Come back inside, you're missing all the fun!"

"I'm coming with you. Are you-"

Toki spun him around for a kiss that was as sloppy as he looked, but Skwisgaar melted into his touch, threading his hands in his sweaty hair. Sometimes the confirmation that Toki was still unequivocally in love with him was exactly what he needed to carry on.

"Look at those long haired faggots..."

"Ugh, that's super gross."

Skwisgaar felt Toki stiffen under his touch, and, unsurprisingly, he pulled away.

"Let it go, Toki." He warned.

"Hei, kuktryne! You want to come say that to my face?!

From among the passers-by, a man with a ratty face and an earring turned around, nudging his equally mean-looking friend.

"Toki, what do we keep telling you about keeping your anger in check?" Skwisgaar hissed as the two approached.

Fighting was not his strong suit, and even if it were, he was too careful of his hands.

Shoving past Skwisgaar, Nathan met the earring head-on and punched him in the jaw.

"Eh..." Toki answered belatedly. "Try not to punch people."

"Try not to punch people." He echoed as Toki waded into the fray to help Nathan out.

The venue's security guards turned a blind eye, and their opponents bailed soon after.

"Dat's a great examples you settings for Toki, Nathans." Skwisgaar commented sarcastically while he flexed Toki's hands, inspecting them for damage.

"Yeah, I'm teaching him to distinguish between situations where violence is and isn't permitted." Nathan said seriously.

"Dis ams dildos." Skwisgaar shook his head as they walked back inside.

 

*******

At first Skwisgaar thought Toki was playing an Apocalyptica album when he returned from grocery shopping, but it only took him a couple of seconds to realise that the arrangement of this particular rendition of 'Bittersweet' was different from the recording he knew. For one, he only heard one cello. Curious, he left the bags he had been carrying and pushed the door to the living room open.

Toki was seated at the piano, playing the slow, sepulchral chords with his eyes on the cellist seated next to the piano, whose long black hair swayed as he diligently moved the bow across the strings. Deep, sonorous notes filled the space with haunting music.

What the fuck was Ronke Snogge doing in his house?

Come to think of it, before he got fired Skwisgaar _had_ vaguely registered that Toki and Ronke did not fight in class anymore - and sometimes even talked afterwards - but he had not paid it a lot of mind.

Toki gave him a tight smile when he noticed him, and Skwisgaar raised his eyebrows at Ronke's back. Ignoring the pointed look, Toki shifted his focus back to the music, leaving him to unpack his grocery bags.

"Not bad, Tokes," he heard Ronke say from the living room.

_Tokes?_ Right, they had been friends for some time. Skwisgaar supposed it was easy to fall back into old habits.

"I'm surprised I still remember it. What's it been, three years at least?"

"Yeah, I was seventeen the year I had that grade retention, I think."

Toki gave a pensive hum.

"Was that enough warming up for you?"

"Yeah. Let's get cracking on that Beethoven. It's a long-ass piece."

It finally clicked why Toki had been studying a duet for cello and piano over the last weeks.

"I'm going to need someone to flip the pages for me during the exam, I think." Toki said.

"If you want, my friend Jostein can come do that. I already asked."

"Alright, cool. For now, just ignore me when I miss notes over that."

Ronke intoned the first bars with a tenderness and sensitivity that Skwisgaar had not thought him capable of from the looks of him. His well-worn Immortal jumper and the spiked bracers gave off a rather aggressive impression. Toki followed perhaps a little too pianissimo, but when they got to the crescendo their dynamic was well balanced. Skwisgaar padded into the living room on his socks, circling around Ronke just in time to flip the page of Toki's score so he could keep playing. Ronke's eyes widened when he met Skwisgaar's gaze for a brief moment, but he did not miss a beat. Skwisgaar found that rather admirable despite everything.

Toki scooted to the side of the bench so Skwisgaar could come and sit next to him and keep turning pages. It was an enormous effort to keep from speaking up about the stuff that could be improved about both of their playing, but he managed to bite his tongue until they finished the Allegro ma non tanto.   

Sweeping his hair back over his shoulder, Ronke smiled at Toki, then looked past him at Skwisgaar.

"Nice keys, Skwigelf."

"I should think so." Skwisgaar replied, lovingly wiping a speck of dust off the C sharp of the highest octave. "Huh...You guys want coffee or some shit like that?"

"Please." Toki said, and Ronke nodded.

Skwisgaar couldn't help but listen in on them while he waited for the coffee to percolate.

"...Skwigelf's your boyfriend now. Wow. How long..."

_Now?_ Who the fuck was Toki's former boyfriend, then? Skwisgaar had operated under the assumption that Toki was a complete innocent before they had hooked up.

"... little while now. Since late December."

"You might have given me a heads up."

"Sorry," Toki said quietly, "but it's been so long. I didn't think-"

"It's alright. Kind of makes me wonder, though..."

"What?"

"Whether you'd have given me a shot again if I'd been more of an asshole to you the past months."

"Oh, shut up, Ronk!"

There was a resounding smack that made Skwisgaar twitch, but it was followed by a round of soft laughter.

"... serious, though. I hope he's good to you."

"I appreciate that."

Someone awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Did you hear that thing on the third page, though, where you went:" Ronke hummed a snippet of the melody, "I thought that-"

"Ugh, yeah, I totally messed that up. You want to take a look at that separately right now?"

"Yeah. Fourth bar of the second system. You ready?"

When Skwisgaar walked back in with mugs of coffee, nothing existed in Toki's view but the musical notation in front of his face, forehead creasing in concentration. The cellist, however, kept stealing distracted glances over his lectern. What the fuck were they playing at? Did Toki think this was a fucking game or something, palling around with his ex under Skwisgaar's nose?

"So this is what you got sacked over." Ronke drawled over coffee with an eye roll at Toki. "What a trade-off. You must be kicking yourself."

Empathy was not one of Skwisgaar's strong points, but he could see that if Toki would tell Ronke to jump the cellist would ask how high - not unlike Skwisgaar himself.

Rather than calling Ronke out on that, he smirked.

"Ja, and there's still no escaping either of your shitty playing even though I don't teach anymore. Fuck my life."

 

*******

In hindsight, it had been pretty naive of Toki to think that his already crappy day was going to get better with a call from his mother. He was home on Friday night after a day of lectures he could not keep up with, enduring Magnus' silent gloating during music theory, and bratty behaviour from his piano students. Nathan had taken Skwisgaar to a club that had an age restriction of 21, and though Toki understood their need to pal around with just the two of them once in a while, he was kind of cranky about being left out.

He was trying to catch up with the subject matter for Hebrew by staring at his grammar compendium really hard when his phone lit up with his parents' caller ID.

"Toki, it's been a while." His mother greeted softly.

"God kveld, mor. It sure has. I, eh... you did not seem too keen the last time I called, so I thought I'd leave the ball in your court."

"Your father was sitting next to me. I did not really know how else to subtly let you know to call back later. Sorry."

"Oh. Yeah, it was very... I kind of thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore, after..."

"Nothing like that. I just wanted to avoid a confrontation."

"How have you been, then, mamma?" 

"Winter's long and dark and cold up here - the usual. I barely get out of the house, so I read a lot. Scripture. Theological treatises. I missed your presence over the holidays. I knew after you left that you would probably not be coming back, but... it's hard."

"I'm sorry, mamma. Don't you ever think about getting out of that life? Come to Oslo. We could see each other more often."

"Toki, you know I don't support the idea of divorce, and even if I did, I would have nowhere to go."

"I understand." He sighed, though he didn’t, not really.

"What about you, my son?"

"Skwisgaar and I are going through a bit of a rough patch. He lost his job, so I'm working more to cover for it, but it leaves me less and less time for my studies. I mean, we'll manage, but it's wearing him down. He's got such a proud nature, and sitting at home unemployed while I work really gets to him."

"You're still living with him, then?" Anja asked hesitantly.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"I had kind of hoped that was a phase, you know, rebelling a little after falling out with your father."

"You mean you want me to break things off with him?" Toki asked, incredulous.

"Try to see it from my perspective, Toki. You’re together with another man... that's a gateway to" She lowered her voice to a whisper. " _sodomy_. I thought we’d made that clear, after…"

Taken aback at his mother's ignorance, he made a concerted effort not to enlighten her that he was engaging in sodomy every chance he got.

"Mother, Skwisgaar is the love of my life. I'm not going to give him up for anything in the world."

"Surely with all your studying of Scripture you know how wrong it is," Anja pleaded.

"From all my studying there has only been one thing I've been able to conclude about Scripture: It's an inconsistent collection of works by vastly different authors in different periods of time, and I'll be damned before I let my life be ruined by a backwards piece of literature."

"Toki! I will not stand for this. You cannot speak of the Word of our Lord like that and expect me to listen to you."

"Alright, how about this - whenever you're studying it again, take a close look at 1 Samuel 18 through 20. Once you've read that, you can explain to me how a gay romance with classic love-at-first-sight tropes managed to make it into the Bible and how that works with your Divine Inspiration theory."   

His arguments fell on deaf ears.

"Please stop this foolishness, my son, before it is too late-"

"Even if I still believed in hell - which is not a canonical concept as you see it, by the way” He said snidely. “I would gladly burn for what Skwisgaar and I have. For every night we spend together." He added, furious that he had to sit there and take this shit on top of everything else that had happened lately.

His mother's shocked intake of breath was the last straw; he hung up the phone.

 

*******

**Notes**

Music for a while shall all your cares beguile. Wond'ring how your pains were eased and disdaining to be pleased. By Henry Purcell for the play Oedipus. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnHF8-FVQ5I

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Hva faen?!" - What the hell/fuck?

"Hei, kuktryne!" - Hey, dickface!

Swedish

Trollkarlar - Wizards


	19. Sebben, crudele, mi fai languir

"Dood. Toki. C'mahn, let's git oot of the house." Pickles insisted when Toki glanced back at his books after letting him in. "Yew're in a shit mood, I'm in a shit mood; we deserve sahm fun."

"I'd better stays in, Pickle. I'm so fuckings pissed off at the whole world - if I gets drunk I'ms going to does stupid shits."

"Doing stupid shit sounds excellent to me. Here," He said, pulling a bottle of vodka from his bag and slinging an arm around Toki. "we're gahnna finish this here and then we're gahnna decide where we're going."

"I don'ts want to get sloppies in the house. I'ms a puker." Toki pointed out.

"Fine, we'll sit on the doorstep. We'll stahp feelin' the cold soon enough." From the smell of his breath, Toki wondered if Pickles would be able to feel anything as it were.

Pocketing his keys and phone, he put on his coat and closed the door behind them. Pickles sat down heavily on the doorstep, shoving the points of his sneakers into the dirty snow on the garden path. The big gulp he took straight from the bottle made Toki wince, but he gave it his best shot to imitate him when handed the bottle. Straight vodka was new to him and he did not really like it, but the burn had a punishing quality to it that spoke to him.

"Okay, talk. Why are we sittin' here alone like a couple of homos?" Pickled laughed. "Obviously because yew are one, but... heh. Never mind."

"Skwisgaar wents out with Nathans. I don'ts think they wanted me to come, which ams kind of sucky. Ugh, everyone's out to piss me off today. They's shuttings me out, my students was incredibly testies and I probably tells you how much I hates music theory?"

"Ye might've mentioned it," Pickles grinned, twisting one of the wooden beads that decorated his dreads in random places.

"Yeah, so it gots even worse. Is taught by Magnus Hammersmith now that Skwis gots fired."

"The same guy who told on yew guys?"

"Yeah."

"Ohoo, I git that yer naht happy aboot that."

"Well, if we didn'ts know for sure before thats it was him, now I does. He kept sendings me these smug little smirks when he thoughts I wasn't lookings. Tooks all of my self-controls nots to bash hims brain in on the tables."

"What a dooshbag, no wonder yer pissed. So how did he find out?"

"Seens him around the neighbourhood a couple of times, and so did Skwisgaar. I think he live here somewhere, too. He must've put twos and twos together after seeings us hangs out a lot."

"Dood, sounds like he was feckin' spying on you guys or sahmthin'. That's creepy as fuck."     

"It ams creepies! And totallies mean! I knews from the start that guy hads it in for Skwisgaar when he teach me piano before, but I never thoughts he'd sink so low."

Toki clenched his fist around the neck of the bottle before taking another gulp.

"Who does that? We weren'ts hurting no one! We's goings to has such a hard times keepings it together without his incomes."

"Why is that? I would've thought he'd have sahm kinda buffer at least."

"He gots five kids in Swedens whats he pays for." Toki confessed without thinking.

He had not felt the need to talk to anyone about it before, but he was rapidly getting drunk and he always ran his mouth when he did. Especially now that their situation was becoming so precarious it weighed on his mind a lot.

"What the fuck? Holy sh- what the _fuck_?" Pickles spluttered.

"Yeah, tells me about it."

"Jesus! And now what?"

"I'm thinkings of puttings my studies on hold and workings fulltime."

"Seriously?!"

Pickles let the bottle hover in front of his mouth, forgotten.

"Yeah, I mean, _he_ can'ts get work with the scandals pilings up, but Toki is still in demands, so..."

"Dood, he ain't gahnna take that lightly, you know that, right?"

"I don'ts need to discuss that with him. Is my deskision. In the end, we don'ts want to move out and sell his house or some shit like that, so what else we gots to does?"

"Hm. I suppose ye kin always pick up where ye left off next semester." Pickles agreed hesitantly.

"Exactly. See, you gets it."

"Ain't that makin' ye extremely angry? Sahm asshole ruining yer lives like that because he's gaht an inferiority cahmplex?"

Toki shrugged.

"Yeah. Can'ts really does anything about it, though. Except gets revenge one day." 

"Dood." Pickles slurred. "Why don't ye git revenge, like, right now? Wreck his life like he did yours?"  

Somewhere deep down Toki knew he should not let Pickles rile him up like that, but he was effectively fanning the smouldering anger in his gut to a cheerfully crackling bonfire.

"I'ms listening."

"Yew know... destoy sahmthin' of his that costs alahtta money. Burn down his car. Or his garage. Or sahmthin'."

"Fucks yeah, thats would be awesome!" Toki exclaimed with sadistic glee.

"Throw a feckin' molotov cocktail through his window or whatever." Pickles continued.

"Don'ts fuckings tempt me, Pickle," Toki warned between swigs of vodka. “I knows how to makes them.”

"Alright, I'm done. Let's git back to ventin' before we end the night in jail."

"Ja, so my mums rings just now tellings me to break up with Skwis," Toki rested his head on his knees to make the world stop spinning. "because it woulds make me a - hah - en sodomitt. There really amen'ts a goods way to tell you mor you beens a rasspuler for en stund."

"Toki, I think I know what yer sayin', but jest don't. I can't Norwegian very well when I'm shitfaced."

"Jeg er altfor beruset til å snakke engelsk." Toki protested weakly.

Sagging against Pickles, Toki let the earth tilt and heave beneath him with resignation. It would stop eventually.

"Hey, Skwisgaar, why are those two sitting on your doorstep drinking like a couple of hobos?" Nathan's hoarse growl came from somewhere above Toki.

"... som et par _homos_ ," Toki corrected, laughing weakly. "Ugh... Jeg føler meg kvalm."

"Pickle, please take Tokis on a walk and don'ts come back until he ams sober. I amen'ts lettings you in like dis." Skwisgaar scowled.

"Dood, take it easy. He's had a rough day."

"No reasons to get dat sloppies. Scrams, I wants to goes to beds."

Toki got up unsteadily and wrapped himself around Skwisgaar.

"Ikke bekymre deg, elskede, vil jeg ikke forlate deg," he mumbled.

"Whats am you talkings about?" Skwisgaar replied, holding him at an arm's length with narrowed eyes.

"Sahmthin' about his mom. She called to tell him to stahp bein' gay fer you or whatever." Ducking underneath one of Toki's arms, Pickles supported him down the garden path. "I dunno if that's what yew're goin' for as well...? Because otherwise ye might wanna stahp treating 'im like garbage all the time."

 

*******

"Guys, guys! Did you hear that one of the teachers from the conservatory died in a fire the other day?"

Toki was tuning his Flying V by ear when Nathan walked into the rehearsal room and immediately began talking over the hum of instruments. Toki pretended to inspect the buttons on his guitar, letting the hair fall around his face to hide his expression.

"Whats? Which ones?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Magnus Hammersmith," Toki mumbled. "Didn'ts you hear?"

"In case you hadn'ts noticed, I don'ts gots anything to do with dat place anymores." Skwisgaar said snidely.

Toki still was not sure how he felt about the fire raging out of his control, torn between crippling guilt and a heady power trip, but at least he had made certain the forensics would come up blank. 

"Sorves him right, though." Skwisgaar muttered darkly.

At least Toki would not have to worry about Skwisgaar empathising with his unintentional murder victim.

"Yeah, they suspect he didn't put out his cigarettes properly before going to bed or some shit like that. What a dumbass." Nathan shook his head.

"Toki, kin ye cahm help me with my bass pedals fer a second? Ye got strong fingers." Pickles beckoned him.

As soon as Toki crouched behind the bass drum, Pickles addressed him under his breath while Nathan and Skwisgaar speculated about the details.

"Jesus Christ, Toki."

Pickles did not need to ask.

"Ja, I counteds on someone puttings it out before de house caughts fire. Probably shouldn'ts has done it in the dead of nights." Toki winced.

"Shit."

"Then again, it tie up all the loose ends nicely. He mights has gotten suspicious if he weren'ts dead, since he knew at least someone who gots a grudge against him. Woulds has been worse if he starteds pointings fingers at Skwisgaar."

"Yeah." Pickles agreed faintly. "Dood, I put ye up to this, and now a guy's dead. Fuck."

"Don'ts worries, I know my chemistries."

"What?"

"Ether as an ackskellerant won'ts shows up in de forensics research."

Pickles took in a shaky breath and rubbed his face.

"Now what?"

"I don'ts know Pickle. Learns to live with it, I guess."

"Toki, Pickles, you need any help with that or are we ready to play?" Nathan called.

"We're good." Pickles replied, straightening up.

"Dids everyone studies de musics I sents last week?" Skwisgaar asked around. "Nathans, dids you finish dose vocal lines?"

"Not for every song - I got, like, two finished. The other one's still in progress."

"Goods enough, I suppose." He nodded. "Tokis, I just thoughts of something. When I does that solos after de bridge - you know which ones I mean? - you coulds does a cool harmonies like dis..."

He demonstrated by playing the solo and the harmony, motioning for Toki to repeat it back to him. It was a bit of a challenge, but Toki got it on the third try.

"Ja. Now we plays it together, goes!"

Facing each other, watching each other's hands, the music flowed between them like an energy that breathed new life into Toki's love for Skwisgaar with every note. There was no end to his admiration for the beauty of Skwisgaar's creations, and the way he looked when he was caught up in playing never failed to mesmerise Toki.

"Wowee," he said reverently when the last note faded.

Skwisgaar bent to kiss his hair.

"You's a champion," he praised, and for a moment everything was right in the world. 

 

*******

Toki's hand on his back startled Skwisgaar from his work on Cubase, where he was composing a new Dethklok song for lack of something better to do. Nathan had come up with the name Deathclock during the second rehearsal, but ever since Skwisgaar had misspelled it on the first mp3 he'd created everybody rolled with that variant. The error had made Toki smile, but no one else had tried to correct him. Taking off his headphones, he spun his desk chair around.

Toki looked a little windswept; he had tied his slowly lengthening hair in a low ponytail, but there were flyaway strands all over his face. His pale face sported red cheeks and a pink nose from the cold, making him look very boyish and kind of adorable.

"Hey, where did you come from? I thought you had class?"

"About that..." Toki bit his lip. "Have you got a minute?"

"Of course." He said, turning back quickly to save his project. "What's going on?"

Toki visibly braced himself.

"I'm dropping out."

He said it quietly, but there was a steely determination at the core.

"What?" Skwisgaar exclaimed in shock. "Toki, no! You can't let me destroy your career. Think about your future -"

"Not forever, just the rest of this year. I'll pick it back up in September, when you've got work again."

His glacial eyes boring into Skwisgaar's conveyed that he was not asking for permission.

"Damn it, Toki, we all tried so hard to keep you on the straight and narrow, and now you're dropping out? Fuck! I'm so done with this situation!" He cursed softly. "Shit, kjære, I'm so sorry for messing up this badly. You deserve better than this. I thought I could offer you a more stable home life, and now look at us." He threw up his hands helplessly.

The guilt of getting Toki caught up in his mess as collateral damage was slowly eating away at him with every time he got turned down for a position, with every day he sat a home feeling useless while Toki worked and studied his ass off. Apart from making sure Toki did not have to do anything else, or even think of anything else besides those two things, there was nothing Skwisgaar could do to make himself useful, and it was killing him. Spending crazy amounts of time honing his piano playing and composing music lost its lustre quickly with the realisation it was not getting them anywhere.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, it'll be back to normal soon enough." Toki said mildly. "I just think it's better if I focus on one thing right now, and for me taking care of financial stability is more important than completing a couple of courses."

"They won't let you back into the music programme if you drop out." Skwisgaar reminded him.

"I know."

Toki nodded slowly, regretfully.

"I thought that was important to you."

" _Music_ is important to me. As long as I can play at home and with our band I don't need that piece of paper. That minor is useless anyway - it's got nothing on the full-time education. What's more... it's not the same since you stopped teaching me. Since you had to leave, I go there with the same feeling as to the rest of my lectures. The magic's gone."

"I feel awful about this."

"I feel awful about the prospect of eating beans on toast and pancakes for the next three months," Toki tried for a smile. "I got the perfect job offer the other day, and I want to take it."

"Let's hear it..."

Skwisgaar rested his head in his hand.

"Remember where I used to play piano before I moved in with you?"

"Huh... in a church, right?"

"Yes. The priest gave me a call the other day... Their church musician is going on maternity leave for three months, and he was looking for a replacement."

Skwisgaar pursed his lips and frowned.

"The hours and the pay are pretty good. It's playing the Sunday services and stuff, and leading the choirs. I think I could do it."

"Of course you can do it." Skwisgaar sighed. "I've got one condition, though."

" _You've_ got a condition?" Toki raised his eyebrows as if to ask where he got the nerve.

"No, hear me out. You've got to let me prepare you for the full-time piano education until you decide to pick up studying again."

"Why?"

"Theology doesn't really make you happy, does it?"

"No." Toki admitted softly. "I don't really see a future in that area except faking it 'till I make it."

"In that case the least you can do is let me help you so we both come out of this better."

"Yeah, alright. We will."

Toki climbed into his lap and wound his arms around his neck. His hair smelled of fresh snow and polar winds and his lips and nose were cold when he placed affectionate kisses all over Skwisgaar's face. 

Skwisgaar died a little inside when he thought of all the things he did that had the potential to tear them asunder, but the way things were going, he was already bracing himself for the worst. It was only a matter of time before Toki realised this was a dead end and left him. 

"Toki," he said, heartbeat picking up speed.

"Hmm?" Toki's voice was muffled where he buried his face in the crook of Skwisgaar's neck.

The lack of eye contact made it easier to say.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

He meant it, even though his contradictory actions might undermine his words. He loved that kid so much it scared him, which explained, but not excused how he treated Toki.

Toki's breath hitched, and he lifted his head to look at Skwisgaar, eyes widening in delight.

"And I love you." He said whole-heartedly.

 _Don't worry, I will not leave you_ , Toki had said when he had gotten drunk with Pickles. Skwisgaar had no right to hope he would hold true, but god damn he wanted him to.

 

*******

"Good morning, Mr Skwigelf, this is Dr Sundström's assistant. I'm calling because your test results came in." A cheerful female voice spoke as he picked up the phone.

"Good morning," he said politely despite a hint of anxiety.

"You tested negative on everything, so there will be no follow-up needed."

"Good, good. Thank you."

Finally a little good luck, even though he should just have been smarter about it. He was going to be smarter about it, from now on.

"Have a nice day."

"Yes, you too," he mumbled.

He needed to stop going out on Saturday nights when Toki went to bed early in anticipation of his work. Stupid shit always happened during those nights, when people kept buying him drinks and sometimes offered him far more dangerous things he found hard to resist. He had never explicitly talked about it with Toki, but deep down he knew Toki would not approve of his thrill-seeking to forget about the failure and uselessness that clung to him the rest of the week. The kid would probably give him some shit about it not being ultimately fulfilling, and he was right, it wasn't. But Skwisgaar could not find it in himself to say no, to stop his destructive behaviour.

His mind skipped between suppressing guilt and justifying his behaviour with every excuse imaginable: he needed it to feel like himself again, to rebel against the complete dependence he had on Toki these days, to counter the jealousy he felt about Toki frequently having his ex over, to make up for the lack of attention Toki had for him now that he worked the entire weekend and most weekdays.  

A loud buzz against the desktop announced an incoming message.

_From: Nathan Explosion_

_I'm not going out tomorrow. I need to spend some time with Abigail._

A little voice at the back of his mind said he needed to do the same with Toki.

_To: Nathan Explosion_

_Ams alright, I gots a thing on Sunday morning anyway._

It wouldn't do to be completely wrecked if he wanted to make something of it.

 

*******

Shaking his head at his dumb mistake, Toki quietly entered the house so as not to wake Skwisgaar. He should have checked his schedule before heading over to church like a dumb sheep after his alarm went off. It was ecumenical Sunday. The congregation was going to be visiting the Catholic Church this morning, so he did not have to play. He would have been on time to attend the mass as a visitor, but he had a strictly business relationship with God these days.

What a waste of a good sleep-in, traversing half the city for nothing. Perhaps he could crawl back into bed with Skwisgaar and pretend it never happened.

Toeing off his boots on the doormat, he did a double take at the shoe rack.

Why was there a pair of women's boots in the place of his? Upon closer inspection, he realised who those boots belonged to. There was no one in the living room when he silently opened the door and looked around in the hopes that Juliette’s au pair would have an innocent reason for coming around to their house at ten o'clock in the morning on a Sunday. His mind refused to believe what the evidence pointed towards on a cognitive level, but he knew. The image of her scribbling her phone number on Skwisgaar's hand bubbled up from the recesses of his mind, and he balled his fists against the inevitable blow.

Dread banded tightly around his chest, making it hard to breathe, and his heart pointlessly pumped around wave after wave of adrenaline.

He had one foot on the stairs when he heard it: an ecstatic moan in a woman's voice, followed by the low croon he knew so well egging her on. Stunned, Toki heard the sounds going back and forth, slowly increasing in intensity. The unwelcome mental images made him sick to his stomach, and it was hard to suppress the violent tremors in his hands. His thoughts got stuck in an endless loop of 'why?', wondering whether he wasn't enough, whether he could have done something to prevent this, whether this was somehow his own fault.

Sliding down with his back against the wall at the foot of the stairs, he listened with mounting horror and betrayal how the man he loved fucked the girl who came to their house twice a week with her youthful charge and her stupid smartphone until she screamed.

After an eternity it stopped, and there was a stretch of silence in which Toki pulled his legs to his chest and the fabric of his pants slowly soaked through over his knees.

The door of the bedroom opened, and Skwisgaar's sultry and fucked-out voice became more clearly audible.

"Show yourself out, will you?"

"Sure thing, babe. See you on Monday!" The au pair said breathlessly.

Footsteps at the top of the stairs made Toki look up to watch her descend. She hummed to herself, but broke off on a high-pitched scream when she laid eyes on Toki sitting there. Upon hearing her outcry, Skwisgaar stumbled naked out of the bedroom.

"Are you okay?" He called.

"You said he... no! Oh shit, no, this is not okay." She squeaked, taking in Toki's face.  

Toki stood up to allow her to pass, holding up his hands to indicate he would not touch her. She trembled like a reed in the wind as she tiptoed around him, pulled on her boots and coat without closing them and slammed the door behind her.

"Hold on, Toki," Skwisgaar's voice sounded shaken.

He returned to the bedroom to dress and appeared at the top of the stairs fully clothed.

Like Adam in the Garden of Eden when he realised he had done wrong in God's eyes, Toki thought uselessly. 

Watching him walk down the stairs as if to the headman's block with that sad, guilty look on his face was torture, but Toki could not tear his eyes away. Tears started afresh when he realised it was all over, that there was no reparation for this breach of trust. The foundations under everything they had built together crumbled to dust with this discovery, and it shook him to his core.

Skwisgaar took him into the living room and faced him, emotion pulling his face into a tight mask.

Toki let the hot tears cloud his vision before blinking and pushing them down his face. Icy fingers squeezed his heart until he felt as if it would implode. This was it. This was the end.

"Toki..."

"How could you do this to me?!" He wailed, forceful sobs wracking him as he gave his emotions free rein.

"Forgive me, kjære, I-"

"Don't make this any harder on me," he wept, feeling his knees want to buckle but fighting to remain standing. "I'm going to pack and leave. I don't need to hear another word from you."

Stuffing his overnight bag with spare clothes, his cell phone adapter and his laptop, he looked around. He could not think well enough to decide what to bring. All of his things were tainted. He left the Flying V on the wall next to the Explorer, but he did need the heavy binder with scores to keep working. His toothbrush. Deodorant. That was all he needed to keep functioning, if he could.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Skwisgaar grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to the living room.

"Toki, please don't leave. I meant it when I said I love you..." 

"Is this how you love me, then?!" His voice rose in anger and he threw his bag down with force, heedless of its contents. "By sleeping with someone else behind my back? Because in that case I'd honestly prefer you didn't!"

"You don't mean that... stay here so when can talk about it."

"Talk about what? How many times you fucked her before this? Whether you fucked other people besides her? How good it was for both of you? It sure sounded like it was worth losing me over-"

Toki blindly brought his fist down on the table with a wordless shout of rage.

"You'd better let me go before I lose it!" He picked his bag back up.

He had never been this angry in his life; the betrayal and loss gutted him like a knife, and Skwisgaar's conviction that his words could somehow make this any less hurtful pulled him under in a current of madness.

"No, I'm not letting you go." Skwisgaar said stubbornly. "You're staying here until you calm down and we can talk about this! It's meaningless in the big picture! She's completely insignificant-"

Grabbing the first heavy thing he saw, he threw it at Skwisgaar's face. Skwisgaar sidestepped the lexicon and watched it bounce off the back of the couch, pages fluttering. When he turned back, staring with open mouth, Toki swung at him, slapping him in the face.

"How can you talk about people like that?!" He shouted. "You fucking stone cold bastard! Is that how you talked her into sitting on your dick in spite of her knowing we were in a relationship? 'Toki is meaningless, completely insignificant in the grand scheme of me fucking my way through the entire population of Scandinavia and fathering as many abandoned children as possible.' Jesus CHRIST!"

Squinting against the pain, Skwisgaar shook his head.

"Please, Toki, calm down and let me explain... "

"No, guess what, _babe_ , I can’t. Do you have any idea how fucking much this hurts? That you threw everything away for a cheap thrill? You lying, unfaithful wretch!"

He punctuated his words with another resounding smack.

Unable to stop himself, he picked up a ladder-back chair and brought it down on Skwisgaar's back until his love crouched on the floor with his arms shielding his head.

"Toki, don't go," Skwisgaar sobbed, the blood from his nose and mouth dripping slowly onto the floorboards.

Dropping the chair on its side, Toki pressed a fist against his mouth when he realised just how far off the reservation he had gone.

"God help me, Skwis, I..."

He crouched down in front of Skwisgaar, who flinched, and pulled the phone out of the pocket of his vest. He dialled the number of the local police and put the phone on speaker, pushing it into Skwisgaar's trembling hand.

"This is goodbye," he said as the phone rang, "I've got a train to catch."

 

*******

**Notes**

Sebben, crudele, mi fai languir, sempre fedele ti voglio amar - Although, cruel one, you make me languish, I will always love you faithfully. Aria by Antonio Caldara. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KohB7UwylYg

**Translations**

Norwegian

Rasspuler - ass fucker

For en stund - for a while

"Jeg er altfor beruset til å snakke engelsk." - I'm too drunk to speak English.

"... som et par _homos_ " - like a couple of homos.

"Jeg føler meg kvalm."- I feel sick.

"Ikke bekymre deg, elskede, vil jeg ikke forlate deg." - Don't worry, love, I won't leave you. 


	20. The Plaint (Oh, let me weep)

As Toki quietly shut the front door behind him, a steady woman's voice answered the phone that was still ringing in Skwisgaar's hands.  

"Oslo politidistrikt, how may I help you?"

He couldn't speak through the violent sobs that squeezed the breath from his lungs. Every inhale hurt, and he did not dare to move for fear of doing more damage. Pain bloomed all along his spine and his battered ribcage when he tried to take a steadying breath.

Why did Toki give him the phone? Why ring the police? Where was he even going?

_I've got a train to catch._

"Hello? Talk to me, what's going on?" The woman prompted.

"I had a fight with my boyfriend," he gasped. "He left, and I think he might hurt himself. I can't go after him... "

"Are you hurt?"

"I can't get up," he whispered while he watched the blood leaking from his stinging face form a small puddle on the floor.

"We'll send someone over. Where do you think your boyfriend might be headed?"

"The nearest railway crossing or train station- I think he's going to-"

He couldn't say it.

"What's his name?"

Skwisgaar clung to her calm questions; they were the only thing that kept his brain functioning,

"Toki, his name is Toki." 

"Can you give me a description of what he looks like?"

"About 1.87. He's got dark blond hair in a ponytail," he took a shuddering breath, "he's wearing a black suit...carrying an overnight bag-"

"We're going to dispatch officers to round him up right away. Domestic violence, possible tentamen suicide... anything else I should know?"

"Please be gentle with him, I- I've hurt him really bad..."

"Alright, don't worry. Can I have your name and address?"

When the operator hung up, Skwisgaar waited with bated breath, partly because of the pain, and partly because he couldn't draw a relieved breath until he knew Toki was safe.

Realising he could not move to open the door, he dialled Nathan's number.

"What are you calling me for this early, you dildo?" Nathan asked gruffly upon answering.

"Nathans," he tried to steady his voice. "coulds you come to my house and opens de door for de police? You still gots my key, right?"

"Yeah, what? Why? Why are you upset? Skwisgaar! Answer me!" Nathan's voice rose half an octave.

"Please comes."

"Oh god, Skwisgaar, please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

He really needed to stop crying, Skwisgaar thought uselessly; it only made pain worse.

"Where is Toki?" Nathan demanded.

"He left! He - he caughts me fuckings a goil- and-"

"Goddamnit, Skwisgaar, you dumb motherfucker! I'm coming, hang in there. Abigail! Put on your clothes. We need to be at Skwisgaar's, like, yesterday!" He bellowed. "You, sorry son of a bitch. I'll be right there."

Nathan and Abigail arrived moments after the police officers knocked, and they let them in. A woman in uniform with a soft face and dark hair that spoke of middle-eastern descent crouched down in front of Skwisgaar where he still knelt in the same position as Toki left him. Leaning on his trembling arms put pressure on his ribcage, but he did not dare shift.

"I'm officer Nygård and this is my colleague, officer Lillmåns. We’re with the Violence and Sexual Crimes department. We just heard on the radio that your boyfriend has been apprehended and taken to the station for questioning, so don't worry, alright? You're going to be alright. Can you tell me what happened?"

"You've got to take me to him. I need to tell him I'm sorry," Skwisgaar pleaded.

There wasn't anything more important right now than talking this through with Toki.

"Your injuries need to be treated, first."

"It can wait, Toki-"

"Listen to the lady, you fucked up, dysfunctional idiot." Nathan growled.

"Nathan," Abigail warned. "Skwis, honey, listen to me. We wouldn't let you near anyone who is capable of doing this to another person even if you weren't hurt, so suck it up. I don't care what you've done, this is terrible."

She smoothed his messy hair away from his face.

"... male, late twenties, suspected rib fractures and possible spinal injuries due to blunt force trauma. Yes. The victim appears to have sustained multiple blows to the back and possibly the head. Yes. Thank you."

Skwisgaar's protests fell on deaf ears as they took him to the Ullevål Sykehus, where a familiar face appeared to examine him. After determining three broken ribs but no damage to his spine, Dr Ohlin released him with heavy duty analgesia so he could breathe normally again. The police officers left him to the care of Nathan and Abigail when they had taken his statement, returning to the police station. They had briefly tried to persuade him to press charges against Toki, but Skwisgaar refused. He felt like he deserved no less for what he had done.

"Please takes me to Toki," he begged Nathan as they drove back to his house.

"Why? He just beat you within an inch of your life, and you want to go see him? Sorry, but I'm not going to do that."

"You don'ts understand! He gots no one besides me! I don'ts want him to bes all alone-"

"You should have thought of that before you stuck your cock in someone else behind his back."

Nathan's words hit him like a crossbow bolt, but he was right, of course.

Abigail reached around from the backseat to rub his arm.

"If Toki is in such a bad place as you think, he might not even be at the police station anymore..."

"Wheres, then?"

Twisting around to look at her hurt like hell, but he could not stop himself.

"Do you know the term 'involuntary commitment'?" She asked.  

"Please don'ts tells me they's going to lock him in a psych wards." He moaned.

"To be honest, I think that's probably a better place for him to be right now than a jail cell."

"Hate to break it to you, Skwisgaar, but you're not going to see that kid again." Nathan said. "He left you, it's over. You broke his heart and he broke your ribs - you're no good for each other. If you think I'm going to let you put yourself in danger again by seeking him out again you've got a thing or two coming. And can you please stop crying? That's super gay."

 

*******

The first week after that Sunday Skwisgaar ran on automatic pilot. Adjusting to life without Toki was impossible between his own mind expecting him around every corner and the glaring emptiness Toki left behind. It was awfully quiet on Monday afternoon as Skwisgaar straightened out his living room and tried to scrub the bloodstain out of the floorboards. Normally the house would be alive with anticipation of Toki coming home from university to teach his piano students, but it was slowly sinking in that he was not coming home today. Skwisgaar had been staring at the wall in the deafening silence, clutching a bucket of pink tinged water and a sponge in his hands when the doorbell startled him out of it.

The appearance of Toki's student should not have surprised him, as the world was still spinning on for everyone else, but he was momentarily at a loss when he opened the door.

"I couldn't tell my boss what happened yesterday," Chesa said over Juliette's head, wincing slightly.

She wore her dark brown hair in a messy bun today, and though her amber skin colour hid it well, she had bags under her eyes as if she had not slept much. "I didn't know what else to do but what is expected of me today. Is he... is he here?"

She glanced around Skwisgaar.

"Toki is not here."

They kept the conversation vague for the kid's benefit, but Skwisgaar saw she understood that Toki had left him by the way she bit her lip.

"Oh. Does it bother you a lot?"

Did it bother him? He was mourning the death of their love with every fibre of his being. No, not their love; he was not going to stop loving Toki. Their relationship then, and their friendship. Trust him to destroy the most precious thing he had ever had with his selfishness.

He nodded, choking back his emotions.

"What happened to your face?"

She sounded concerned, but he did not need that from her. He had no idea if she thought it meant anything that they were fucking, and he barely cared. Toki had been right about him being stone cold about this fling, but he could not fake a connection that was not there. What on earth had possessed him to make this trade-off for casual sex and some attention?

"I would rather not talk about that in front of Juliette."

"Can we come in?" Juliette asked, looking between the adults. "It's cold out."

Skwisgaar stepped aside to let them in.

"Where is Toki?" The kid asked.

"Toki is at the hospital." He answered, hoping that that would satisfy her curiosity.

He supposed he owed her an explanation.

"Is he very sick?"

"Kind of. I don't think he is going to come home any time soon."

"At the hospital?" Chesa echoed in confusion. "Why?"

Trusting Juliette would not know what it meant, Skwisgaar confided what he had heard from Abigail late last night.

"He is being held at the Sogn psychiatric department for evaluation."  

"Oh dear."

Chesa winced again, and brought her thumbnail to her mouth to chew on it.

Skwisgaar absently wondered if anyone had thought to inform Toki's parents where he was and what had happened. Should he call Anja Wartooth?

"Are you going to teach me today?" The kid drew his attention back to the conversation at hand.

He looked between Chesa and Juliette's hopeful faces.

"Ms Gundersen would be very pleased if you did."

Chesa was mainly thinking about what it meant for her job that Toki was out of the picture, and who could blame her?

"If you want." Skwisgaar acceded.

While Juliette played, he quietly filled Chesa in on what happened. He needed someone to talk to who would not be so quick to judge him and condemn Toki as his friends.

"You saw how upset he was when he saw you..." He whispered over the music.

She nodded, grimacing at the memory.

"I tried to make him stay and talk about it, but everything I said seemed to make it worse... I should have let him go, then maybe he would have come back when he was less upset. He- he got physical." He released the breath he had been holding in.

"He hit you," Chesa murmured, taking his chin in her hand to inspect his face.

"I, huh, have three broken ribs as well."

Skwisgaar looked away when she gasped.

"Is that what he got committed for?"

"No. It was something he said that made me think he was going to jump in front of a train."

He bit the inside of his cheek against the hurt that lanced through him when he realised he had made Toki so unhappy he wanted to die.

"Oh, babe. It's not your fault." Chesa tried. "Normal people don't react that way to having their heart broken. If violence was his way to deal with this, he was already messed up. Perhaps it's better like this. That you got out before anything else happened."

Skwisgaar shook his head.

"Nothing will ever be better than what we had."

"Give it time, you'll see things differently."

He showed Chesa and Juliette out after the lesson, and the au pair offered to come back after her work hours.

"I'm free when Juliette goes to bed at eight. Shall I come over? I'm pretty sure I can make you feel better."

"I hope you understand I'm not in the mood... What's more, I can't do this anymore."

"Call me when you change your mind."

Her light tone betrayed no emotion at getting dumped, and she gave him a kissy face as she disappeared from the garden, fully expecting him to call again when he was ready.

That evening, after Skwisgaar taught all three of the kids who dropped in for lessons, Abigail briefly came to check on him. He was grateful for the distraction, unsure what he would do with himself when left to his own devices for too long. They talked about inconsequential things; music, mainly, and Nathan's new gig.

When she left he picked up his phone and dialled Toki's number. Of course Toki did not pick up - he would not be allowed his phone on a closed ward - and Skwisgaar let it go to voicemail.

Toki's cheerful voice greeted him.

_"Hei, this is Toki Wartooth's phone! I'm not here right now, so leave a message who you are and what you want to talk to Toki about after the beep."_

"Toki, it's me." He took a deep breath. "When you get this... Come home."

He left a similar message every day.

*******

By Saturday morning there was a pile of cards and kid's drawings on the dining table, vivid colours in crayon and felt pen against the high gloss white surface. They all read a variant of the same thing: Toki, I miss you; get well soon; please come back. After Juliette, Skwisgaar had told the rest of the kids the simple truth; that he had done a bad thing that had made Toki sick, and that he was not sure if Toki was going to come back when he got better. His brief explanation got accepted because somehow the kids perceived he was being honest with them, and they were happy enough to continue lessons with him instead of Toki. Most knew him well enough from seeing him around during his unemployment. They did ask a lot of questions that made Skwisgaar very uncomfortable; like why he moved funny, what it was he had done, and what exactly was wrong with Toki.

A lot of students came by to bring cards with well-wishes during the week, hoping that Skwisgaar would deliver them.

Gathering them carefully in his leather messenger bag, he took the bus to the psychiatric clinic. His heart rattled against his ribs at the thought he might hear something about how Toki was doing, or see him, even. He could not go any longer without knowledge of his well-being, and he needed to see Toki's face somewhere else than on the sparse pictures he had of him. 

The nurse at the front office had to think for a moment at his enquiry. It was extremely difficult to stay cool and collected at the wait.

"Toki Wartooth? That mousy, long haired boy who was brought in on Sunday?"

"Yes."

"He was discharged on Tuesday."

On Tuesday? That was four days ago.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" His voice cracked. "I'm his boyfriend! How is he doing? Where did he go?"

"I can't tell you - that's confidential." The nurse said, her expression shuttering.

"Did he leave alone? He's got nowhere to go..."

"No, a friend came to pick him up."

"Who?"

"A short man with red hair." The nurse supplied to calm him down.

Skwisgaar barely took the time to thank her before taking the bus to Pickles' flat. Nervously jiggling his foot the entire way, he stormed into the building as soon as he jumped out. Waiting for the elevator took excruciatingly long after he pressed the 'up' button twenty times, and when it ascended he drummed his hands on the rail until the door opened at the right floor.

A litany of pleas at whatever deity would hear rang though his mind in the hopes that he would find Toki here. Pickles' door was ajar, so Skwisgaar walked right into his apartment.

"'Ey, Skwisgaar. How are ye doin', buddy?" Pickles asked without real interest from his position on the couch, where he was rolling a joint with his feet propped on the armrest.

Toki was nowhere to be seen.

"Fines," Skwisgaar deflected, cutting to the chase. "Ams Toki with you?"

"Nope. Don't think I woulda let ye in if he were."

Pickles lit up.

"Pickle, tell me where he ams. I- I gots cards from all hims piano students what miss him. I don'ts want to bother him, just..."

He held up the bag.

"Aw, Skwisgaar stop it with the fucking crocodile tears... Yer a piece of trash, ye know that? Yeah? Good."

He took a long drag.

"Please, Pickle, I'm beggings you. Tells me how to contacts him, I swears I won'ts-"

"Dood, no. He already had to get a new phonenumber because you kept sending those goddamn messages."

"Just tells me if he ams safe, den."

"He's gone back to his mom, alright? Send your cards there if you know the address. Now scram-a-rooni, I kind of don't want to see your stupid sad face right now."

Pickles was the only one besides Skwisgaar who unconditionally took Toki's side in the rift, but that did not make them allies

"Thanks you." Skwisgaar said, turning on his heel.

Despite his bargaining that he would not bother Toki, Skwisgaar got on the train to Lillehammer. During the two and a half hour confinement his thoughts went in circles, trying to think of something adequate he could say to get Toki to come home with him, but he knew he did not deserve that.

"You have some nerve, showing up on my doorstep."

Aslaug Wartooth was dressed in black robes of office when he opened the door.

Tired of chasing rumours, Skwisgaar did not acknowledge his words.

"I need to see Toki."

"Toki? I haven't seen that boy in months. You wasted your time coming here."

"Who is it, Aslaug?" Anja asked from the hallway, donning a woollen top coat.

"That teacher of Toki's."

"Skwisgaar!" Anja pushed past Aslaug, her face clouding with worry. "Is there something wrong?"

"Is Toki not here?" He asked bleakly.

"I haven't seen my son since the day we met at your house..."

"Are you _sure_ he's not here? I get it if he doesn't want to see me, but I need to know if he is safe."

"Positive, why would I lie about that? What happened?" 

"He left, and I can't find him anywhere."

"He left you? When? How long has he been missing?"

Skwisgaar answered Anja’s increasingly frantic questions as best as he could, but he had reached a dead end in Lillehammer.

Pickles only picked up the fifth time Skwisgaar called on the train back home.

"What?"

He sounded aggravated.

"He amen'ts dere, Pickle."

"Where?"

"Lillehammer. Hims parents don'ts know nothing."

"You seriously went to Lillehammer the second I told you? Yer turning into a right stalker."

Skwisgaar silently accepted the scolding.

"Great, now nahn of us know where he is anymore."

"Calls him for me, Pickle, please."

"Fuck, Skwisgaar, I just realised he never gave me his new number."

Skwisgaar buried his face in his hands at the thought of Toki slipping under the radar to be dead to the world.

"He knows where to find me if he needs me, so there's that." Pickles said.

"Ja," Skwisgaar echoed hollowly.

 

*******

The courage to investigate his last lead on Toki’s whereabouts was a long time in coming. When the bruising on his face faded enough for him to feel comfortable about going out in public again, he walked to the conservatory. Habit made his eyes search for Toki there, though he knew Toki had not been there since he dropped out of school. Skwisgaar walked the corridors of the classrooms two times, but when that yielded nothing he made his way up to the rehearsal rooms.

The sound of a cello on the upmost floor made him hone in on the gleam of blue-black hair in the window.

“Ronke,” he said quietly, interrupting his practice.

“Hva faen gjør du her, Skwigelf?” Ronke frowned.

“Har du sett Toki?”

“What makes you think I have?” The cellist said with a closed-off expression.

“Don’t play games with me. You’re my last fucking lead, alright?”

Skwisgaar had a hard time keeping the desperation out of his voice.

“Your last lead? What the fuck is going on?”

“I asked you a question, Snogge!”

Ronke laid his bow on the table and set his cello aside, facing Skwisgaar.

“I haven’t seen him, or talked to him, for that matter. He missed our appointment last week without saying a word and his phone is out of service. I didn’t know what to think, but since this isn’t the first time he’s cut me off… Well, I actually tried not to think about it very hard.”

“What happened the first time?” Skwisgaar asked, half-hoping he could learn anything from the past.

“That’s none of your fucking business!” Ronke spat. “What I want to know is what happened this time.”

“He fucking disappeared and no one knows where he is! Not his parents, not his friends - I spent all day trying to figure out where he worked yesterday -”

“You lived together and you didn’t know where he worked?”

“- only to be told his employer hadn’t seen him all week either. You are the only other person I could think of.”

“What _happened_?”

“I cheated on him,” Skwisgaar admitted quietly. “Fuck, he was so upset…”

Letting the words sink in, Ronke took a deep breath, avoiding Skwisgaar’s gaze when he spoke up again. 

“I don’t want to say it, but have you considered the possibility that he’s…?”

“Don’t you dare fucking say it.”

Ronke’s mouth pulled into its familiar bitter grimace.

“Please tell me there’s no reason he would do that.” Skwisgaar pleaded.

“Except that he’s had an utterly shit life. Everyone he’s loved -” 

In the dead silence that followed, Ronke let out a strangled sob and averted his face, his fist clenching on the table.

“Could you fuck off?” He grated out.

“If you hear anything at all…”

Skwisgaar placed a note with his phone number on the table, leaving Ronke to his own grief. 

 

*******

Despite his and Ronke’s mutual fear, Skwisgaar could not stop looking for Toki everywhere he went. Even after weeks, dark blond ponytails he spotted on the streets made his heart shoot up into his throat, but it was never him. At concerts, whether classical or metal, he was more preoccupied with scanning the crowds for Toki's face than listening to whatever was being played, but it yielded nothing. As winter turned into a grudging, watercold springtime he wandered the streets every moment he got, searching, searching. He always came back to his house alone and disheartened.

It was so quiet in the house; not even the first rays of sun could warm up the coldness of Toki's empty spots on the couch, at the table, in the bed.

The children kept coming, but they rarely asked after Toki anymore. His number of students increased every month now that he focused on teaching from home. He took on people of all ages to supplement his unemployment benefits, evading the taxes to pay his bills and save up for a long overdue trip to Sweden. He would make up for it once he went on tour again in September.

"Skwisgaar, you need to put his things out of sight." Serveta said gently after she noticed his wandering gaze while they talked. "Take that advice from you mother."

"I don't want to forget about him."

As long as he kept Toki's things around, Skwisgaar could pretend he could come back at any moment.

"That's not what I meant. You don't need to forget about him, you couldn't if you tried. But see it as a spring cleaning. Make a little more room in your head for other things than grieving."

"It's so empty without him - when his stuff is gone, I've got nothing left."

"You've still got yourself. Being Toki's lover was not the only thing that made up your identity. It's time to move forward again. Let me help you."

"I can't accept that he's gone, mamma."

"It's a process, believe me. Come on," she said, urging him up from the couch. "We'll start downstairs."

Skwisgaar stood in the middle of the living room feeling lost while Serveta collected armloads of Theology books and stacked them on the stairs.

"Bring them up, Skwisgaar. Don't let your old mother do all the hard work."

Retrieving a couple of moving boxes from the loft, he packed them evenly with books and study materials at the bottom and sets of washed clothes on top. He left the unwashed ones in his closet. They still smelled faintly of him. The boxes found a place stacked in a corner of the spare bedroom, where the multi-coloured crochet blanket still covered the pristine white sheets ever since Toki moved in with him. After labelling the boxes 'Toki' with a sharpie, he took the cards and drawings down from the white board in the study and tied them together with string to put them in the top box.

"Better?" Serveta asked when he had closed the boxes and they went downstairs. "I'll clean your windows if you make yourself useful in here. You used to be such a neat-freak."

"I've forgotten how to care about stuff like that."

"Well, you had better get back on top of your game, because summer will be here before you know it, and you will need your wits about you to prepare for that tour. You can't do that with a cluttered house and a cluttered mind."

"I know, mom."

Serveta took his hand.

"You need to start respecting yourself again, this is going nowhere."

"How could I possibly do that, after what I did?"

He knew she spoke from a similar experience, but he had no idea how she had recovered from that.

"You just need to flip the switch. It will feel weird and artificial at first, but you have to do it.”

"Is that how you felt after Týr?"

She smiled sadly.

"Yes. Perhaps I felt worse than you do now, knowing that I ruined the chance of a normal family for you, but... the only way to recover from something like this is to grant yourself forgiveness, even if no one else will. Even if Toki can't. You've lost him and you've punished yourself enough - it has to stop somewhere if you want to have a life again."

"I don't know if I can." He sighed.

"When you look back on what you have done, you need to trust that you learned from your mistake. This whole experience has made you a different person, and you need to allow time to put distance between yourself and the person who - excuse my Swedish - cocked up."

"That's going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"You don't have to do it alone. I'm right here if you need me."

Serveta opened her arms.

"Let me give you a hug - you look like you haven't had one in ages."

It was a good hug; for the first time he felt like he could truly relate to his mother, and that made it infinitely more natural to accept the affection. Closing his arms around her, he hugged back with fervour.

 

*******

On the 28th of May, an otherwise unremarkable date except that it marked the passing of the second month of Toki’s disappearance, Skwisgaar woke to a text.

_From: private number_

_Han er i live._

_Ronke_

 

*******

**Notes**

O let me weep, for ever weep,

My Eyes no more shall welcome Sleep;

I'll hide me from the sight of Day,

And sigh, and sigh my Soul away.

He's gone, he's gone, his loss deplore;

And I shall never see him more.

The Plaint. Aria from The Fairy Queen by Henry Purcell. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgwnBO5NpR0

**Translations**

Norwegian

“Hva faen gjør du her, Skwigelf?” - What the hell are you doing here, Skwigelf?

“Har du sett Toki?” - Have you seen Toki?

Han er i live - He's alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter for now today, since I'm writing extra scenes on the fly. Hopefully chapter 21 will be done tonight, I'll upload ASAP in any case.


	21. Erbarme dich, mein Gott

Once Toki managed to process his unexpected incarceration he aimed all of his efforts towards convincing the shrink he had just gone to take the train because he wanted his mum. Apparently, he could still be a convincing liar, because the next day a date was set for his release.

The truth was: it could have gone either way, depending on what opportunity had presented itself first, but no one needed to know that. Especially since he wanted to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible, he needed to be on his best behaviour. In full Lillehammer survival mode, he did what was required to convince everyone he was a stable and well-adjusted kid caught up in a misunderstanding.

His violent outburst was mostly overlooked due to the nature of the betrayal he had experienced and the fact that he had no prior record. More people than expected could apparently sympathise. He found out from one of the orderlies that the law had no adequate protocol for dealing with domestic violence, and since Skwisgaar refused to press charges he would not be prosecuted after he was released from the clinic.

The first night on the closed ward had been easiest in a way; he knew he would not be going anywhere for a while, and the exhaustion of what he had been through hit him hard enough that he could sleep. The second night was worse. Once well rested, the grief and the loss of everything but the bag he carried with him slowly got the upper hand, and he could not let it go for a single minute.

He never wanted to see Skwisgaar again, but their lives had become so entangled. He could not see a way to extricate himself without at least having to talk to him once, but he also knew that if they saw each other again it was only going to be harder to irrevocably cut all ties with him. Toki also harboured no illusions about being welcomed back among his friends after the way he had treated Skwisgaar. He did not blame them; it was inexcusable and unforgivable.

The panic of not knowing where to begin with his limited funds and without the support from his social circle kept him awake throughout the night, alternating with guilt and the deep, agonising sorrow of missing Skwisgaar next to him.

With his future gaping before him like the maw of the abyss, Toki was set to leave the clinic with his belongings on Tuesday afternoon. He had no idea how to bridge the gap between now and the commencement of outpatient therapy next week, so he took his leave from the staff on duty with more confidence than he felt.

"Toki, dood!"

Pickles rushed into the lobby, and Toki was glad to see his friend despite his intention to disappear. He let himself be hugged, and acknowledged his gratitude that the tiny philosopher had come for him.

"Pickle, I'm real glads to see you, but why ams you here? Amen'ts you... angries with me for whats I did?"

"Gahd, Toki, no. Nath'n 'n Abigail are, yeah, and Murderface is shittin' his pants every time sahmone mentions yer name, but... After all the bullshit that douchebag put ye through, he feckin' had it coming. Come with me, ye kin bunk at my place tonight."

Back at Pickles' apartment, he filled Toki in on what he had missed in the last three days. It wasn't pretty, so they opened a bottle of vodka while they talked.

"Looks like Skwisgaar finally got it through to his thick skull that he's the biggest moron in all of creation." Pickles commented.

"Yeah, rights. He probably went right back to fuckings that goil as soon as he gots over the shock of gettings busted."

"Ugh, I dunno, dood. I'd like teh see 'im try with his broken ribs." Pickles smirked.

"Broken...? How bad is it?"

He knew beating someone with a wooden chair had to have some effect, but he had tried to avoid thinking about it altogether.

"As far as I know, he's gaht sahm broken ribs, but other th’n that bruises, mainly."

"Shit... Why amen'ts he pressing charges if I hurts him that bad?"

"He wants ye back, Toki. That dumb son of a bitch still thinks that yer gahnna cahm back to him if he waits long enough. He's like a beaten dahg."

"Yeah, that's really dumb." Toki echoed.

His phone buzzed with a text message alert.

From: NetCom

You have 2 new voice messages.

Dialling the number of his voicemail inbox, he put the phone to his ear.

_Welcome to NetCom voicemail. You have two new messages. First message, left today at 19.28:_

_"Toki, I can't describe how sorry I am for hurting you. Please contact me when you get this. I love you. Come home to me."_ Skwisgaar's bleak voice said in his ear.

_Next message, left Monday at 20.57:_

_"Toki, it's me... When you get this - Come home."_

"What's he sayin'?" Pickles asked.

"Tellings me to come home and contacts him."

"Yew going to?"

"Even if I wanteds to, I wouldn'ts. I can'ts bes with him when I don'ts gots no rein on my angers. I'ms only goings to wind up flippings out again."

"Ye need help with that."

"I knows. I'ms getting therapy at the clinic."

"Okay."

Pickles switched on the TV in the silence that fell as they passed the bottle of vodka back and forth.

"What are yer plans now?" Pickles eventually asked.

"I, eh, needs to sort out my works and finances. Apolgesize about not beings there for lessons to my students..."

"Yeah, Skwisgaar took care o' that. He's teachin' them as long as yer away. I guess ye need to talk to 'im about that, at least." 

"Ja, I will."

A plan formed in his mind. If he could fool everyone into thinking he was being taken care of long enough to disappear, Skwisgaar could keep his students and try to support himself. Toki could find new work besides his substituting at the Lutheran church, and rebuild his life without ties to his past.

"I'ms goings back to my mums for a couple of days, first." He lied.

 

*******

"Hello, Toki, I'm glad you could make it today." Dr Nagell shook his hand. "I'm sorry we had to reschedule."

"Not a problem, doctor, I work flexible hours."

"I must say, it's good to see you bounce back like this. Are you still working the same job?"

"This is my last month at the Lutheran church, but I'm starting somewhere else after that."

He was going to miss Oslo, but his new appointment was going to give him a completely fresh start outside the city.

"That's good news. Have you got a permanent place to stay yet?"

That was the hardest part, but he was going to look at rooms in Fjellhamar in two days. With a year contract as a church musician at Fjellhamar Kirke he could finally leave the homeless shelters and bridges of Oslo behind him for good after nearly two months of living rough.

The tail end of March, and even most of April had been cold, and he could not always find a place to stay indoors. Shivering through the night on the streets was unavoidable sometimes, but fighting for his survival, for his place in the world, had been a purifying experience.

Toki had caved two weeks ago, when a blizzard had raged outside the church after he had finished playing the Sunday service. He had hid in the relative comfort of the old building until everyone had left. On the balcony of the organ, his legs dangling through the wrought iron railing, he had read psalms by the grey light filtering through the stained-glass windows to pass the time.

When darkness had fallen in the vaulted space he had felt closer to God than he had in years when he realised that the creator truly sheltered him in his palm when he could not sink any lower.

Far Orlaag had found him the next morning, sleeping on the hard wooden pews with the hymnal open on his chest.

"You're doing much worse than you let on, aren't you?"

The priest knew he had come out of a bad relationship, but that was the extent of what Toki had told him.

"I'm sorry," Toki sighed, sitting up and plucking his coat from his legs. "This probably looks very sketchy."

His thermal underwear itched, and he desperately needed a shower.

"I didn't want to chance getting turned down at the homeless shelter in this weather. It's a pretty long walk from here, and I reckoned it would be full." Toki explained as he rubbed his gritty eyes.

"You're homeless? Don't your friends want to take you in for a while? Or your parents?"

"I'm getting shunned by most people since... I can't keep depending on the one friend I have left, and I can't go back to my ex."

"Toki, that is catastrophic." Far Orlaag said, eyes flashing.

"Most days I can make ends meet to pay for the shelter, but between needing to eat and keeping my clothes clean it's not always easy to save up enough. I might be able to afford a room next month." He said hopefully.

"Good heavens, I had no idea. Come with me, you can stay at my house for the time being."

"That won't be necessary, as soon as the storm blows over I'll be-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Toki. You're in a monumentally disastrous situation. Let me help you."

Over the next days, Toki could finally take a breather from staying on the move to stay alive. Taking regular showers and eating hot meals went a long way towards making him feel a bit like himself again. However, on the heels of the sudden comfort the grief came crashing down. The need for survival and ensuring his primary needs were met had left little room for processing what had happened outside of the weekly therapy sessions with Dr Nagell. He was able to keep it in the first night, but when Orlaag left him the next morning to attend to his pastoral duties, Toki had raged and howled with sorrow and regret until he was hoarse.

He knew he could not pointlessly rail at his misery forever; he had to work towards recovering. Recharging his laptop enabled him to get back in touch with the world, and he hunted for work all over southern Norway. With a letter of recommendation from Far Orlaag supplementing his meagre experience and lack of official qualification, he managed to land himself a job in a village twenty minutes away from Oslo.

With that prospect, and the effects of regular behavioural therapy, he finally dared to look at himself in the mirror after two weeks of living under a roof again.

"Eh, no, I don’t have a permanent place yet." He told Dr Nagell presently. "But I expect it won't be long now. In the meantime I'm more or less staying at the priest's residence."

"Good. The most important part is that you're off the streets in this weather." Dr Nagell gave him a tight smile. "Today, I'd like to talk to you about your tendency to burn bridges behind you. You told me last week that you don't talk to the people you were closest with anymore. Who are these people to you and why are you not talking to them now?"

Toki wondered where to begin.

"First of all, I haven't seen Skwisgaar since I left him for obvious reasons... Even if I weren't completely shattered by getting cheated on, I beat him up so bad that I couldn't possibly hope to be forgiven for that."

"From what you've told me before," Nagell looked through Toki's file, "he was more than willing to."

"He shouldn't, if he knows what's good for him. This wasn't the first time - I hit him once before when he kept insulting me. Our friend Nathan warned me not to do it again, but here I am.” He hesitated. “My father always called me things like 'demon child', or 'spawn of Satan' when he... chastened me, and I'm beginning to think maybe he was right. Maybe I'm just a bad person, and that's why I had better stay away from the people I care about."

"Your father hit you."

"... yes."

"So you got the wrong example as a child. Do you think that makes you an inherently bad person?"

"I have a mind of my own, I should _not_ be taking after my father as if it's predestined for me to become an abuser."

"I'm not saying that excuses it, just-"

Toki considered talking about the other thing that had been weighing on his mind. The doctor had professional secrecy to adhere to, didn't he?

"I commited arson and involuntary manslaughter, too."

Nagell considered him with his deep-set eyes under his high forehead.

"How do you feel about that?"

"As if a part of my soul got ripped away. I feel guilty as sin. With the knowledge of all of those things combined - like I _am_ a demon."

"What I understand from what you're saying is that you burn bridges because you feel like you don't deserve a second chance."

"... possibly."

"Because you are afraid you can’t help falling back into the pattern of lashing out when you get hurt."

"Yes." Toki said in a small voice.

"What if you learned to recognise and deal with your emotions in a healthy way, would that give you the confidence to be close to people again?"

"Perhaps."

He never again wanted to stand over anyone knowing that he had caused that look in their eyes as they cowered before him.

"We're going to keep working on that, alright? Did you bring your worksheet?"

"I did."

If anything, he was going to try his hardest to make sure he would never set anything on fire again, literally _or_ metaphorically.  

 

*******

“You’re going to leave town? Why?” Ronke asked, eyes reflecting the tea lights on the bar of the café where they had stopped for coffee after the hectic but successful exam.

“I’m starting over somewhere else.”

“What about your friends and stuff? Helvete, I thought you were dead before you contacted me. For all I know Skwigelf still does.”

“It’s probably better that way.” Toki shrugged. “It’s as close to a clean break we’ll get.”

“No, Toki, it’s fucking awful, trust me. I almost feel sorry for that guy. But he probably wouldn’t let you go, would he?”

Toki nodded. “That’s why I’m sort of... dead to the world.”

“You made and exception for me.”

“I promised.”

Ronke inclined his head.

“Thanks for helping me out. And for trusting me, I suppose.”  

“I owed you that. It’s been good - kind of therapeutic - to play with you.”

“Anytime. I don’t know where you’re going, but if you ever feel like it again…” Ronke said, knocking back the dregs of his coffee. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“I thought I’d spend some more time in the city. It’s a pretty mild night. Say goodbye to my favourite bridge.”

Ronke laughed, eyes downcast.

“Weren’t you staying at a church or something?”

“I already said my goodbyes there.”

Toki felt Ronke squeeze his hand on top of the bar to draw his attention.

“Do you want to come to my place? My bed is kind of narrow, but it’ll fit.”

“Ronk…” Toki said hesitantly.

On the one hand he was starving for some intimacy, on the other he had nothing to offer in return.

“I know I’m not him, and you’re going to be gone in the morning, but -” Ronke shrugged.

“If you’re certain.”

“Yeah. I’ll take whatever.”

“Lead the way, then.”

When Toki let Ronke take his hand the tinny sound of Skwisgaar’s voice on his answering machine sounded through his head. _I love you. Come home to me._ He stamped down hard on the feelings of deprivation and guilt that surfaced.

It was still not fully dark by the time they got to Ronke’s gloomy room on the outskirts of the city, so they made their way around the apartment in the twilight. Devoid of further conversation material with the anticipation of spending the night together, they crawled into the single bed in t-shirts and underwear as if to pick up where they left off some three years ago.

Nerves and guilt made Toki’s insides cramp as one of his hands clutched a fistful of Ronke’s sleeveless Marduk shirt and he buried his face against his chest. Ronke was reticent with his initiative, content to hold him in his arms and accompany his tender kisses with light touch. The finger pads of his left hand, calloused from the cello strings, trembled as they tentatively ran up Toki’s back underneath his shirt.

“Er dette greit for deg?” He murmured into Toki’s hair, voice unsteady. “I mean, I’m not sure…”

“You’re shy for someone who wears corpse paint on a regular basis.” Toki smiled against his shirt.

“That’s not my real face.”

“I know your real face. Ikke vær nervøs.” 

Toki raised his head, meeting lips that were nothing like big plush ones he could still feel if he remembered hard enough, but familiar all the same.

The ghost of Skwisgaar’s claim on him weighed heavy on his mind, and between Toki’s conscience and Ronke’s shyness they did not get much further that night. However, sleeping with limbs tangled together in the confinement of the narrow bed relieved Toki from the burden of his loss and loneliness - at least for a little while.

In the morning they found the courage to strip away the layers of clothes between them with the bright sun burning behind black curtains. Butterflies slowly but surely supplanted the guilt as Ronke pulled him on top, and Toki kissed him until they were both dizzy from oxygen deprivation.

“Fuck you, Tokes,” Ronke panted as Toki took off his shirt.

“Oh, shut up and get naked.” Toki replied as he yanked off Ronke’s in turn.

“I suppose you know what you’re doing this time around?”

“Sort of, but you’ve got to keep talking to me, because I’m a terrible lay if you leave me to my own devices.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronke snorted. “Do you, eh… I’m going to guess you want to top?”

“Depends on what you want. I don’t bottom, but we don’t have to, you know… fuck. How did you guess, by the way?”

“It’s not the first time we’re in bed together.”

“It _is_ the first time we’re in bed naked together.” Toki retorted. “But you were going to tell me what you want.”

He fucked Ronke with a tenderness he had not known he still possessed after Skwisgaar; after all the anger and bereavement and guilt he had carried with him for months. It was everything it should have been had they not been thwarted years before, and it made Toki’s imminent departure hard on both of them.

Ronke raised his head from the pillow to squint at Toki in the morning light while he dressed.

“Fuck… That was not nearly enough. I need more.”

“Ronke…”

“Yeah, I know. Go. It’s been nice.”

Running a hand through his dark, glossy hair, Toki bent down to give him a lingering kiss.

“Fy faen, you deserve better than this.”

“Call me if you’re ever ready to make that happen.”

“Adjø, Ronke.”

“Farvel.”

 

*******

Toki politely applauded as he observed Pickles receiving his master's degree from the back of the lecture hall. There was relief in his friend's posture, but also alarm at the realisation that this was the end of an era for him. No longer a student, he was finally going to have to pick his own path.

Lurking on Facefriends had alerted Toki to the occasion, and he could not let it go by unnoticed even if he was supposed to be dead to the world. He had quietly snuck in to show his support after determining none of their mutual friends were there, listening with interest as Pickles' thesis was briefly summarised and his excellent grade mentioned.

He shrugged uncomfortably in his suit jacket; it had become too small after he gained a lot of muscle mass working Mr Eikemo's farm next to his work as church musician, but he had not bothered to buy himself a new one yet. This one was barely a year old, and he generally only wore it for two hours every Sunday - the jacket only when it was freezing cold inside the church.

At the reception, Toki walked up to Pickles where he was talking to professor Offdensen. From what he had gathered, Pickles had dedicated his thesis to 'the Robot' for never letting him forget about it.

"Hei," he greeted softly, and they turned to him. "Congratculations, Pickle. I woulds has gottens you flowers like the rest, but they didn'ts have you favourite plant."

"What, weed?" Pickles grinned as if they had not missed each other for a year.

"Papaver," Toki smiled back.

He moved to give Pickles the card he had written, but got enveloped in a crushing hug.

"Where have ye been, ye dooshbag?! We've all been worried sick! And ye look so different, look at yew!"

"Is a long stories, Pickle. If you want we can catch up some time?"

Toki felt ready to pick up the slack again with Pickles. The new year was a good time for reconciliation and fresh starts.

"Dood, why naht now?"

"Sorries, but I can'ts. I'ms visiting my parents today, but I woulds love to sees you again soon. Hello, Professor," he belatedly greeted Offdensen.

"Toki, is that you? This is a surprise - we all thought you had, ah, dropped off the face of the earth." The professor shook his hand.

"I hads, but I landed on my feet, I thinks. Slowly makings my way back."

"Are you coming back to university, then?"

"Yes, I'm startings the new semester in Februaries."

"That’s, ah, great news. I gues I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, sees you. I gots to run, my train leave in fifteen minutes."

"Aw, dood."

"I reallies wanted to sees my pal gradsuate, but I gots an appointment, sorries. I text you, Pickle!" Toki called, leaving him with the professor.

"Don't forget!"

Toki made it to the station very much in time, but he did not want to mess up meeting his parents by showing up half an hour late. Next to him on the platform a kid with faded black dye in his long blond hair smiled at him, far too chipper for the black metal look he was apparently going for. At least Ronke had the dedication to look appropriately funereal all the time. Toki smiled back nonetheless.

Paying the boy no further heed, he took a window seat behind one of the little tables in an empty compartment. The train was quiet on the early Wednesday afternoon, which suited Toki fine. Propping his overnight bag against the window, he wanted to settle in for a nap when the kid slid into one of the seats opposite him.

"Hei," Toki said, sitting back upright.

He wasn't about to drool in front of someone else.

"Hei hei.” The kid said. “I like your fu manchu."

Well, kid... He was at least seventeen.

"Eh, thanks? I… like your hair, too."

Underneath the dye he had nice curls.

"I thought I saw you earlier at university. Where are you going?"

"Lillehammer."

"Me too! I just got back from a guided day. I'm trying to pick a study, but it's hard."

Eighteen, then, or close enough at least.

"I don't recommend Theology." Toki offered him a wry smile.

Opening his spiked leather jacket to reveal a Burzum t-shirt over his worn arctic camo pants, the boy grinned.

"That’s not exactly high on my wish list, though I do like, you know, old stuff."

"History, then?"

"I can't sit still long enough."

"You'll figure it out."

Toki went back to staring out the window, watching the trees flash by as they left Oslo Lufthavn behind. The kid tapped out a double-bass pattern with his black sneakers on the linoleum. A drummer, Toki decided from his lack of customary combat boots.

"Wouldn't have pinned you as religious." The kid remarked, brushing a lock of fuzzy hair out of his face.

Toki shrugged.

"You kind of look like a metalhead."

"I was in a death metal band a year ago. Guitar."

"Cool! How do you combine that with Theology, though?"

The kid cocked his head, grey eyes inquisitive.

"I don't think God can be arsed to mind what music I like," Toki laughed.

"Haha, yeah. I guess if there is an almighty being he’d have better things to do."

"When are you planning to enroll?"

"September. Are you still studying then? Maybe we could hang out sometime. You could show me around."

Toki hated to shut him down, but he wasn't planning on getting back in the business of ruining people's lives.

"Listen. I like you, but I don't think you want to be associating with me."

"Am I supposed to find you less interesting now?"

"Listen, kid, I don’t want to judge a book by its cover, but you look way too young for the kind of baggage I’m carrying. I’m a fucking demon of the night."

"Is that because you want to be or just what you think you are?"

"What?"

"There are no demons, just people. And if you wanted to be a good person you could just start today." The kid made it sound simple. "Do something nice to make up for the bad stuff. Like, I don't know... be my friend and promise to show me around."

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"That's what Frode always says," the kid grimaced.

"Eh... I’m missing something. Who's Frode?" Toki asked.

"My oldest brother. He works on an oil platform - I don't see him a lot, but he always says I try to claim him when he's home."

"Now I know your brother's name, but not yours."

"Oh! It’s Ole. Ole Stedjeberg."

"Toki. So you've got more than one brother and you're still in need of friends?"

"Brothers don't make great friends, especially not when they're that much older. Jens tends to kind of ignore me, he's a little uptight. I don't really fit into his clean little world of teaching chemistry and marrying a pretty GP."

"What a shame." Toki said, suppressing his sarcasm.

"Yeah. Frode was going to take me to Heathenfest next month, but he got called back to the rig."

"That sucks. I went there last year - that was a great festival."

The bittersweet memory of making out with Skwisgaar outside the noisy venue cut through him like a knife, proving the belief that he’d laid that part of his past to rest an illusion.

Ole fixed him with a big, hopeful smile.

"No." Toki said bluntly.

"Come on, you know you want to."

That cheeky grin was hard to resist. On the platform in Lillehammer Toki gave up his phone number with a sigh.

"I'll text you, Toki!" Ole called as he got on his mountain bike.

Alone again, Toki made his way to the station’s exit, lost in thought until he heard his mother's muffled cry.

"Toki!"

She hurried at him and took his face in her hands to kiss him.

"Jeg har vært veldig bekymret for deg, min sønn... Don't ever disappear like that again, promise me!"

She hugged him tightly to her chest - a first, as far as Toki remembered.

"I promise, mamma. I'm planning to be good from today on."

 

*******

"Ole, er du atten ennå?" Toki bellowed over the sound of the second Viking metal band of the evening.

Despite some texting back and forth and hanging out once during Toki's extended stay in Lillehammer last month, he had not caught his actual age. It was one of the few things Ole had not volunteered, and Toki had not asked, because half the time he could not get a word in edgewise. Ole talked a lot when he got excited, so Toki knew all about his aging dog, the outdoor activities he liked to do with his family and what kind of subjects he was taking exams in come May - just not if he was of age.

"Ja, hvorfor spør du?"

"Vil du ha en øl?"

"Fuck yeah!"

Pushing through the crowd up the stairs to the bar at the back of the venue with Ole in his wake, Toki got in line behind two rows of sweaty metalheads to order beers.

"War paint always gets so sloppy during concerts," Ole remarked, looking back at the red and black streaked figures on stage.

"Yeah, seems like a waste of time to even both-"

Toki's heart skipped a beat when his eyes were drawn to a familiar combination of pale blond ponytail and bony shoulders a couple of feet away. Ready to dismiss it as a trick of the light, coming face to face with the man he had been avoiding for the better part of a year became harsh reality when the hulking figure in black at his side turned around. It was Nathan.

His gaze passed over Toki the first time, presumably because with his facial hair and longer hairstyle he looked different from the kid he used to be, but the second sweep made them lock eyes.

"Hei," Toki mouthed, holding up his hands to indicate had not meant to run into them.

His eyes flitted to Skwisgaar's turned back, setting him alight with the desire to see his face for one moment, or to ask how he was doing. It had been so damn long.

Nathan noticed, and shook his head with a warning look.

"No." He mouthed back. "Don't even think about it."

Long buried emotion surged up to hit him like an avalanche, rooting him to the spot as he watched Skwisgaar nudge Nathan to get his attention.

Toki only moved when Nathan turned back to him and motioned for him to back off with an unmistakable wave of his arm.

"Shit," Toki bit out through his rapidly clenching throat, turning back to the bar to stare blindly ahead.

"What is it?" Ole leaned in to meet his eyes.

"It's my ex."

Ole's head swiveled in the direction Toki had been looking.

"Who, that girl in the Arch Enemy shirt?"

"No, the tall guy with the blond hair. Fuck..." He moaned.

The moment Ole turned to stare, Skwisgaar started towards the bar.

Toki grabbed Ole by the shoulders and reversed their positions so he could duck behind him. 

"That bad?"

"Remember that I said I'm a bad person? We had the worst break up imaginable. We haven’t seen each other since I left him bleeding on the floor after I caught him cheating." Toki hissed, hunching out of sight.

"Ooh," Ole exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Holy shit!"

"Fuck, help me hide!"

Ole reached out to pull Toki's hair around his face as Skwisgaar leaned over the bar on his other side.

"Trust me," he said, clumsily crushing his lips to Toki's, splaying his big hands over the side of his face to effectively hide his features.

Toki let himself be manhandled; he'd completely forgotten how to move with another person after months of isolation. Ole pretended to kiss him until he felt Skwisgaar move away at his back. Releasing Toki after a decent interval he asked: "Is he gone?"

"I- I don't see him anymore."

"Do you need to leave?"

Toki considered cutting the evening short and returning to his room over Mr Eikemo's barn in Fjellhamar, but besides wanting to stay for Ole he was still dying for a glimpse of Skwisgaar's face.

"No, we can stay. Can I have your hoodie for the time being, though?"

Ole handed it over with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about snogging you, dude. It was the only thing I could come up with."

"No, you're brilliant. Good thinking." Toki said faintly.

They watched the next performance leaning against the crush barrier. Toki knew Skwisgaar and Nathan would be at the back, away from the press of the crowd, so there was no risk of encountering them there. He let himself be distracted by the music for a while, but his churning gut did not allow him to forget. All those months of effectively dealing with his lingering grief and longing came to nothing now that he knew Skwisgaar was in the same venue.

"I'll be right back, I need to take a piss," Toki said, leaving Ole near the stage.

Pulling up his hood to obscure his hair and part of his face, he slowly made his way to the back of the hall, searching, searching for that one face, even though he probably should not for his sanity's sake. A ways away from the dimly lit bar he saw Nathan and Skwisgaar again, watching the stage with similarly disinterested expressions and beers in hand.

Sitting down on one of the steps behind a group of teenagers in Sabaton merch, Toki allowed himself to stare from the depths of his hood. He took in the sharp lines of Skwisgaar's face. His sunken eyes were too shadowed to read, but his hollow cheeks and the thin line of his mouth spoke volumes to Toki, even though he was unsure if he was just projecting. Every now and then his gaze distractedly swept the crowd while he and Nathan exchanged curt conversation, and he looked as if he would rather be somewhere else.

Toki had not counted on seeing him here at all, because the line-up contained none of the bands Skwisgaar liked. If he had known, he would not have gone. Being so close to him without being able to interact set Toki's progress in getting over him back six months, if not more.

Tracing Skwisgaar's bony features with his eyes, he wondered if he was taking care of himself at all. What would have become of him after Toki left, with his unemployment and all his debt? Would Skwisgaar have hit rock bottom like him, or found a way to keep his head above the water?

He sternly told himself that other people would have taken care of Skwisgaar. Even if his friends had not, then the girls he was seeing behind Toki's back would have picked up the slack, wouldn't they?

He did not look good, though, and Toki could tell by the fact that he wore his glasses in public and that his hair was fuzzy and half again as thin as it used to be that he did not feel good, either.

In the lull between performances Ole suddenly crouched down in front of him.

"Hei, are you okay?"

He followed Toki's gaze, and pressed his lips together sympathetically.

"Tell me if you want to go, it's fine."

"I'm alright."

"No, you're not," Ole said, wiping at Toki's cheeks with his callused thumbs. "I’ll take you home."

Stepping quietly to avoid waking the Polish labourers in the adjoining rooms who also lived and worked at the farm, Toki let himself into his dark room.

Without bothering to turn on the light, he flopped down on his settee-bed and let the fragmented memories of his lost love pass before his mind’s eye; their friendship transforming into something more during Skwisgaar’s absence, that first night in Skwisgaar’s arms; learning and teaching under his guidance at the grand piano in the living room, curling up with books together on cold nights… 

It was a small wonder he could still not move past the loss after all this time, and the realisation that all of the grief and the hardship he had been through since it ended added up to zero at the end of the line made it hard to find closure in any form. 

 

*******

**Notes**

Erbarme dich, mein Gott, um meine Zähren willen. Have mercy, my God, for the sake of my tears. Aria from the Matthäuspassion by Johann Sebastian Bach. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZb7FcP84CM

**Translations**

Norwegian

“Er dette greit for deg?” - Is this okay for you?

"Ikke vær nervøs.” - Don't be nervous.

"Jeg har vært veldig bekymret for deg, min sønn..." - I have been very worried about you, my son.

"Ole, er du atten ennå?" - Ole, are you eighteen yet?

"Ja, hvorfor spør du?" - Yes, why do you ask?

"Vil du ha en øl?" - Do you want a beer?


	22. Ch'io mai vi possa lasciar d'amare

"Oh, Skwisgaar, they're so precious," Serveta crooned over the pictures he was showing her on his phone. 

From where he was leaning over the back of her sofa, he could see her subtle crow's feet wrinkle with her tender smile and the silver that laced her blond hair sparkle in the lamplight. When she actually dressed for the glacial weather, he could almost say she was aging gracefully. 

It had been forever since he had been at his mother's house - he had not come to Kiruna since he left for the conservatory at eighteen - but much had changed since. He barely recognised the place, and paired with his improved relationship with his mother, staying here was a lot better this time around. She had taken down most of the obnoxious Miss Sweden era pictures, leaving just one of the two of them, and the furniture had all been updated. It was good to let go of the teenage grudges he had dragged with him long into adulthood this way - though her support after the split with Toki had already more than redeemed her in his eyes.

"What is this little man called?" She asked as he swiped through the photos to show her a pale eight year-old with freckles and a cheeky grin.

"Huh... that's Thorbjörn. Thobbe for short. He ignored me the first half hour I was there, but once he discovered I had my guitar with me we hit it off. I think he'll be asking his mom for one until it drives her crazy. Well, she knows where to find me now, I suppose."

Serveta let out a low chuckle.

"Sounds like a chip off the old block."

"And this is Angela," he pointed out the brown-skinned little girl, her tight curls surprisingly blond. 

"Such a beauty," Serveta commented. "She ought to be in a pageant."

"From what I heard she's more into palaeontology at the moment."

"What?"

"Dinosaurs and stuff."

"I don't see why that couldn't go together." His mother winked as she put an arm around his neck. "Did you get to see all your children this week?"

"All except Vibeke. Emmi has not responded to my attempts at contacting her." 

"Well, I'm proud of you, regardless, Skwisgaar. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you to make this step."

"It was, especially the first visit. I felt so out of my depth. Thankfully, Mikael was pretty chatty. It got easier every time, and I think it helps that I work with children a lot now."

"You know, I think Toki would be very proud of you, too, if he knew."

Who knew what Toki thought of him these days? Skwisgaar hoped he did not look back on their entire relationship with regret.

"He made me very aware of my shortcomings in certain areas, but it was always coming from a place where he tried to help me better myself. He actually made attempts to browbeat me into getting to know my kids on several occasions," Skwisgaar smiled. "I should have done it, then - he would have come with me."

"I think it's more admirable you did it without having him to hide behind."

"Thanks for that dubious compliment, mom."

"You know you would have."

"Pffft."

Serveta took his phone to flip through the photos a second time, repeating the children's names to herself. 

"Skwisgaar, come home to Sweden. You could file for visitation rights or co-parenting." She sighed. "So many grandchildren, and I don't know a single one!"  

"Sorry, but I'm not done with Norway yet."

"What's left for you there, then? You tour all over the world anyway." She searched his eyes for a moment. "You're not still searching for Toki, are you?"

Averting his gaze, he shook his head. Winter hindered active searching, but he still looked for him wherever he went. He simply could not accept that it had ended this way. If he would not have had the tangible evidence of Toki’s presence stored in his spare bedroom, he might have feared he imagined everything. 

"You know how I feel about my house, and I work there, my friends live around the corner..."

Even though they refused to talk to him about Toki most days, he would not know what he would do without Nathan and Abigail.

"You don't really need the teaching work at the moment, do you?" Serveta cocked her head at him.

He did not; his most recent string of performances along the east coast of the United States had left him with more money than he knew what to do with.

"It keeps me off the streets when I'm not touring." He said, only half-joking. "I’m actually going legit with it. I’m setting up a music school in Oslo."

"It's your life, but is more music really what you need?"

"What else? Hej, you can give that back now!" He said, grabbing the phone out of his mother's hand when she reached the beginning of his picture roll with her swiping.

The last photo she had pulled up was an early one from some eighteen months ago: Toki and Abigail were looking into the camera extremely smug over winning at a board game by teamwork. Toki still looked like a Jehovah’s Witness or whatever he had been at the time in the picture, with his fresh face and his neat clothes, and Skwisgaar laughed softly.

Serveta smoothed a hand over his hair.

"He looks so innocent there. I had such a hard time believing he could have done such a thing to you."

"I deserved it, mom." Skwisgaar said for the hundredth time.

His mother refrained from commenting, raking her fingers through his hair instead.

"You need to go to your pharmacy and get something for that hair loss. I know just the thing. It's a shampoo in a red and grey package-" She said, inspecting the short new hair that had been coming in at his temples for a while now.

"It'll repair itself, it was just stress." He gently plucked her hand from his scalp. "But thank you for your concern."

 

*******

"Holds on, Pickle, lets me take this for a moment or he keep callings the rest of the afternoon."

Toki lifted his butt from where he sprawled on Pickles' couch to get to the source of the ringing.

"Sure, dood."

Pickles continued shovelling pot brownies into his mouth as if it were nothing while Toki juggled his new smartphone after he fished it out of his cargos.

"Exam stress hotline, department of beta sciences, this is Toki," he smirked when answering.

"Toki, you've got to help me!" Ole squeaked. "I've got a formula here that says W Fs = cos . α, but I don't remember what it has to do with the law of conservation of energy or if I should apply it to this question..."

"Forget the law of conservation of energy - it belongs in the same subdomain of labour and energy as that formula, but that's it. What is the question you need to solve?" 

"I need to calculate how many joules a tall guy would expend pulling a sled through the snow a certain distance."

"Eh... A tall person would not pull the rope perfectly straight, right?"

"Yeah, and...?"

"Come on, you know this. You measure the angle with your geometric triangle..."

"Oh right! So the amount of Newton times the cosinus of the angle times the distance..."

"...is the amount of labour. Next time I want you to at least think for ten minutes before you call me, I think you know this stuff yourself.”

"Alright, I will!"

"Dood." Pickles looked at him expectantly when he hung up. "Who was that? Have ye gaht a new boyfriend?"

"Whats? No! You really gots to learn Norwegian sometime. We was just talkings about physics."

Sniffing one of the brownies, he popped it into his mouth. It smelled delicious, and he did not have to work in the morning anyway.

"Sounded very intimate."

"Screws you. Ole ams too young for my taste. Don'ts even gots a grammar school diploma yet."

"You mean he ain't a grumpy old dooshbag."

"Ugh, shuts up.” Toki griped. “Though… we dids snog once, but thats was to hide me from Skwisgaar."

Weeks later, it was almost an amusing story when he thought about it. Almost, if it weren’t for the lingering regret he never even got to talk to Skwisgaar.

"Right! Nath'n told me yew saw each other at the festival! Thank gahd ye hid. That could've ended badly..."

"Yeah, Nathans tolds me in no uncertain terms I needed to stay the hell away. I gets that he ams still angries about that, I mean-"

"Nah, I think Nath'n would be willing teh talk to ye at this point. It's jehst that he's protecting Skwisgare from himself, or someth'n."

"Whats you mean?"

"I dunno if it's a bad idea to tell ye this, but... Nath'n says the only reason Skwisgaar goes out anymore is in the hopes of findin' yew somewhere. So Nate sorta... chaperones him to make sure he doesn't. He would prahbly have thrown himself at yer feet or sahmth'n stupid like that, given the chance."

"You, eh, happens to knows how he ams doings, then?" Toki asked around the lump in his throat.

Skwisgaar had been looking for him all this time. That was knowledge he could do without.

"Naht sure, he's in Sweden right now to see his kids 'n his mom. Far as I kin tell he's functioning. Still teaches those kids, and ye prahbly heard he's a pretty big name internationally now..."

"He wents to sees his kids? Wowee, I woulds never has guessed. He was so adamants about not doings that."

"I think he's tryin' teh be a better person, 'n I guess better late than never, but yeah. It's not like he seems very happy or anything, jehst goin' through the motions."

"Sound kinds of pathetics."

"Well, whater yew doing teh make yerself happy these days?"

"Am happies to sees you. But yeah, work and schools ams busy, my dads still thinks I'ms the antichrist, and my mums can'ts get over the fact that I fucks guys. Nothing new there."

“Yew still seeing yer other ex? What’s ‘is name… Ronke? Skwisgaar was pretty torn up about the fact that he had to hear from him that yew were still alive.”

“Ronke tolds Skwisgaar? Thats ams news to me. Goings to asks him about that when I sees him next tomorrow.”

“So what are yew, like, friends with benefits or sahmth’n?”

“Only if benefits means musicskal skills. I sleeps with him once but I think we closed that chapters. Besides, I think he’s seeings someone else. I’m just playings in his Bachelor recitals next month.” 

“Oh, alright.”

"So ams you guys still in Dethklok?"

"Yeah. We never replaced ye, so we're a, uh, 'one guitars bands' now."

Pickles imitated Skwisgaar's accent poorly, but the facial expression was close, and Toki smiled.

"We needs to stop talkings about me and Skwisgaar. Tells me about what you's up to these days."

"I do a lahtta philahsephy seminars. Giving speeches at conferences, companies, that kinda thing. I also applied fer teachin' jobs at local schools, but I guess I really do gahtta learn Norwegian then."

"Oh, that's ams sound interesting, Pickle! Amen'ts you nervous about speakings in public?"

"Nah, I never gaht that."

"If you needs me to teach you Bokmål...?"

"Yeah, I think I already found a teacher." Pickles said with a secretive grin.

"Oh, tells to Toki!"

"Ehehe… the Robot asked me out after I graduated."

"Pickle! Bra for deg!" Toki exclaimed. "He gots a bad accent, though."

"Yeah, dood, I don't care." 

"You thinks he was waitings for it a long times? If he ask right after you gradsuate?"

"Who knows? But if he did I'm glad."

"Whats, you means the way Skwis and I crashed and burned? It dids kind of start with that, yeah. Goods thinkings."

"Charles is a genius."

"Charles," Toki giggled.

"Toki, stahp it."

"No seriouslies, when ams you seeings him?"

 

*******

The fifteen hundred kilometre journey from Kiruna had left him tired as hell, but Skwisgaar could not resist dropping in on his favourite singspiel at Den Norske Opera. Die Zauberflöte never failed to make him feel better with its colourful characters and imaginative plot, and this performance was staged just the way he liked it. The final scene between Der Vögelfänger and his wife where all the children popped up to jump on the bed with them made him smile, thinking of all his adorable, inquisitive, creative and beautiful kids he had just met. He had promised to come back for each of their birthdays, so he was going to see a lot of Sweden again this year. Perhaps he _should_ think about moving back.

Parched after the long sit, he accepted the offer of a cup of coffee from a flirtatious older lady after the performance, and he listened to her talk about how the first rendition of Die Zauberflöte she had seen back in 1949 had differed.

A man putting on his coat while he walked into Skwisgaar's peripheral vision drew attention when he pulled his long, sandy hair from his collar and it fell down his back in one fluid motion.

"Excuse me," Skwisgaar mumbled to the lady, and he started after the man with long strides.

He caught up outside the entrance, where the darkness and frost of the March evening engulfed him.

"Toki?"

The man turned around, and Skwisgaar braced himself for the disappointment of being wrong like so many times before.

It was not the boy he remembered, but he had not been wrong this time.

"Skwisgaar..."

"There you are," Skwisgaar said softly, as if he had been looking for him for a mere five minutes instead of more than a year.

Toki took a sharp intake of breath and held it, his pale eyes gleaming with anguish.

"I've been searching so long," Skwisgaar said.

He bit his lower lip.

Toki's mouth pulled down at the corners, and he bowed his head to hide his face.

Skwisgaar took a steadying breath against the emotions that threatened to overrun him. He had something to say first.

"Toki… I know," he gasped, "that I don't deserve you, but god damn I need you here. And I want to try to deserve you, even if it takes my whole life. Come home."

"That sounds like the worst idea ever," Toki said, voice shaking, as he slowly turned to walk away.

"Please, don't leave me now." Skwisgaar begged. "Toki... Come home."

Taking the hand that was not balled into a fist, Skwisgaar drew him closer, willing Toki to look him in the eyes.

When their eyes met, Toki squeezed them shut with a broken sob, and Skwisgaar faltered, realising that he should not have burdened him with this. There was a limit to what Toki could endure from him.

Burying his face against Skwisgaar's chest, Toki silently shook. Skwisgaar repeatedly pressed his lips against the top of his head, just like he had been aching to do. Toki felt heavier in his arms, taller and wider, but he was still so young underneath his changed appearance. How could Skwisgaar expect him to go through all this for him? He was barely twenty-one - he was just a baby.

"If you ask it of me, I will let you go," he promised. "But if there's even the smallest hope that you're not through with me..."

"It will never be the same," Toki whispered, crumpling the lapel of Skwisgaar’s jacket in his fist.

"No," Skwisgaar agreed, "but that does not have to be a bad thing."

He smoothed a hand over Toki's hair and kissed it again. Toki let him go after a final squeeze, taking a deep breath.

"Get your coat, then."

They missed the last bus so they walked, Skwisgaar's fingers wrapped around Toki's strong hand, carefully stepping across the old snow in their dress shoes.

"Where was your chaperone today?"

"Sorry?"

"Nathan. He, eh," Toki laughed softly, "he kept me from approaching you at Heathenfest."

"What?! I'm going to kill him." Skwisgaar growled, outrage flaring in his gut at the realisation he could have seen Toki then. "So you _were_ there."

Toki nodded.

"Nathan doesn't know I'm back in town yet. I only got home this morning."

"How was Sweden?" Toki asked.

"You knew...?"

"Pickle told me. To be honest, the only reason I dared to come here tonight was because I thought I wouldn't chance running into you."

"You've been in contact with Pickle, too?" Skwisgaar exclaimed, dismayed that all his friends had kept him in the dark about Toki. "Why did you all think you needed to keep that from me?"

"Skwis, it was such a mess. What I did to you-"

"Was completely justified."

"No, you cannot pretend that it was! Never think for a second that that was acceptable in any scenario."

"You gave me everything, and-"

"That you decided to throw it away was your choice. I did not give in order to receive-"

"I betrayed you in the worst way!"

"and because it was freely given I had no right to exact punishment, alright?"

Toki talked right over his attempts to trivialise what he had done. Apparently he had given it a lot of thought. Skwisgaar recognised that he needed to let Toki take his responsibility.

"I understand." He bowed his head in acquiescence. "But know that I don't blame you. It's nothing that I would allow to stand in our way."

"Our way? How do you imagine we can trust each other again?" Toki asked quietly.

"I trust myself to have come far enough not to make a mistake like this again, and I refuse to be afraid of you."

Toki stopped walking to look him dead in the eye. In the dark space between streetlights, Skwisgaar acquainted himself with the hollows under Toki's round cheekbones and the blue circles under his big eyes.

"I'm going to be paranoid." Toki confessed with downcast eyes, his dark blond eyelashes sweeping his cheek.

"I'm going to have abandonment issues."

"What are we doing, Skwisgaar?"

Toki looked nervous, and Skwisgaar fervently hoped he was not getting cold feet.

"Renegotiating?"

"Yes, I suppose we need to..." Toki took a step closer, "really talk expectations this time."

"Kiss me, first," Skwisgaar pleaded.

He let Toki take his face in both his hands, willing the tears stinging his eyes away for fear of appearing unstable. The thumb caressing his cheek did not help, nor did the pale eyes staring into his soul, so Skwisgaar shut his eyes and waited until he felt Toki's lips brushing his ever so slightly.

He could not remember them ever having shared such a tentative kiss before; after the briefest slide of their lips they were both breathing hard in the minimal space between their mouths. 

"Are you okay?" He asked Toki.

"As can be expected."

"Then let's go home."

 

*******

Toki smoothed out one of the wrinkled children's drawings on the fridge while Skwisgaar made coffee. There were several, done in finger paint and coloured pencils. The top one was unmarked, but the second one read 'för pappa från Thobbe' in a clumsy scrawl.

"I see you acquired some quality artworks," Toki said.

Skwisgaar came to stand next to him, and the arm he wrapped around his waist caused an anxious tingle in Toki's gut.

"I should have gone sooner, like you said. This reminds me..." he hesitated. "Your students all wrote you cards and made you pictures when you were at the hospital. I still have them, since you were already gone... "

"Makes me feel guilty for never saying goodbye to them."

"They missed you a lot."

"I never gave them a moment's thought again." Toki confessed.

"They adapted to the change eventually, unlike some people..." Skwisgaar said wryly, taking their coffee to the living room.

He put the cups down on the coffee table with a faintly embarrassed expression, folding the colourful blanket Anja had made to make room for Toki on the couch. The ninth Sword of Truth book lay face down on the armrest with Skwisgaar's glasses on top, Toki noted with interest.

"I can't say I did a great job at adapting either."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's say I became very intimately acquainted with the streets of Oslo the first two months."

"Oh, Toki, no."

He shrugged.

"I’m alright now."

"I was so afraid you would have nowhere to go - I wore a path through the city in searching for you. How come I never found you?"

"You probably did not check under the bridges, did you?"

Skwisgaar shook his head with a barely-there smile. 

"I guess we really don't think alike."

They stood staring at each other, neither of them sitting down.

"You have no idea how bad it's been without you." Toki said through his suddenly clenching jaw. "And since I saw you the other day..."

"Fuck, Toki, I _do_ know. It's been so bleak and dark."

Skwisgaar roughly pulled Toki's hips closer, and tangling his hands in those blond curls, Toki kissed his stupid, sunken face with everything he had. From his high brow to his bold nose and soft lips; he covered him in all the kisses he was supposed to have given him if they had not fucked up so spectacularly. Feeling the different textures of the soft skin of his cheeks and the scratchy stubble of his jaw with his lips, he was glad he had not forgotten; that he still knew every angle of his bone structure and every pale freckle on the bridge of his nose.  

To say his body responded to the intimacy he had thought he lost forever did not do justice to the rekindling fire in his soul. Further stirring up the past seemed pointless detrimental when this highly strung, so Toki licked his way into Skwisgaar's mouth for a deep kiss that grazed his bottom lip on his teeth with its intensity.

"Tell me if I'm going too fast," Toki said when he pulled away long enough to speak.

"No, this is exactly what I had in mind."

There was a beat of silence before a scuffle ensued over who got to pull the other's clothes off first, and though Skwisgaar put up a valiant effort, Toki wrestled him onto the fluffy white carpet. Acknowledging Toki's priority rights, Skwisgaar bared his throat for better access.

Toki kissed a hungry, sloppy trail to the collar of his black dress shirt and opened the small buttons with trembling hands. Exposing his ghostly pale chest, Toki straddled him to allow his own shirt to be ripped open pushed down his shoulders. One of the buttons that perished in the process bounced against the coffee table with a click.

Half out of their minds with the maddening separation they stared at one another, opening buckles and zippers until Skwisgaar spoke up.

"Come to bed with me."

Though Toki nodded his assent he did not immediately move as Skwisgaar sat up underneath him, instead curling around him to relish those plush lips on his upper body. Sudden withdrawal from both love and sex had been brutal, and he soaked up the touches and the intent behind them like the rays of the sun.

Toki stepped out of his pants the moment he got up, and Skwisgaar's fell down his ass in the hallway. While Skwisgaar swept the discarded garment out of the way with his foot, he took off his socks and dropped them where he walked as he followed him upstairs. Unceremoniously divesting Skwisgaar of the remainder of his clothes, even though his round ass looked marvellous in the tight boxer briefs visible under his shirttails, Toki pushed him onto the bed. He had never seen the muted blue covers before, but they set off Skwisgaar's pale colouring as if he were hewn from marble.

"Er du kald?" Toki asked when Skwisgaar shivered at the touch of the bedding.

He was burning like a furnace himself, so when Skwisgaar nodded, he covered him with his body as best as he could under the covers.

"I've been cold ever since you left."

Long, icy limbs wrapped around him as their eyes found each other in the low light of the bedside lamp. Having their naked skin touch with no holds barred felt so good Toki could cry. Skwisgaar hooked Toki's hair behind his ears to keep it out of his face and kissed his burning eyelids. Pressure from his endless legs pushed Toki's hips closer against him. Ignoring his arousal became impossible when Skwisgaar rolled his hips into him to indicate his own impatience.

"I'm not sure I know how to do this anymore." Toki stammered.

"Just fucking stick it to me," Skwisgaar begged, "As long as this is what you want, too-"

"Oh god, do I ever want you..."

When Toki leaned on his arms, poised to enter him, Skwisgaar lifted his chin with a finger.

"Look at me..."

Struggling against closing his eyes, Toki clumsily pushed into him while Skwisgaar held his gaze, his brow drawn in a tortured expression.  

"Endelig," Skwisgaar sighed. "Jeg har aldri sluttet å elske deg."

Unable to summon words, Toki crushed his mouth onto Skwisgaar's as he rocked into him with the full force of his desperation behind it. Hands scrabbled for purchase on his ass, drawing him deeper.

"Jeg har hatet deg," Toki bit out while their movement flowed rapture between them like the inexorable pull of the tide, "men... jeg-"

He trailed off as he watched Skwisgaar's mouth fall open in wordless exclamation and his eyes clenched shut. Steadying the convulsing hips underneath him with one hand, the sight was enough for Toki to lose control completely.

"Jeg elsker deg fortsatt," He gasped.

Leaning their foreheads against each other, Skwisgaar moaned his name like an invocation as the force of his climax dissolved Toki into an erratic rhythm and then stillness.

There was nothing left to say after the languid kisses they exchanged in silence. Toki fell asleep with his back pressed against Skwisgaar's chest like they used to; an arm curled around his chest and Skwisgaar's nose at the nape of his neck. He had missed this.

 

*******

The sound of a lorry passing in the street woke Skwisgaar from his sleep with its deep rumble. The warm and fuzzy content feeling that suffused his limbs lasted for less than ten seconds after he opened his eyes.

It was eleven in the morning, and he was alone in his bed. 

Toki wasn't there.

Heaving a sigh, he rolled over for his phone. He could not deal with the disappointment alone this time around.

"Skwisgaar! How are you, sweetie?" Abigail's smooth voice greeted him.

"Abigails, I-" He broke off to swallow back his emotions.

"What is it? Are you alright?"

"I, huh, dreamed about him again." He admitted in a whisper.

"Oh, Skwisgaar..."

"It was so godsdamned reals. I can'ts handle mine minds rights now."

"You want me to send Nathan over? I'm in the studio right now."

"Just tells me to gets over myself or some shits like dat."

"Have you thought about talking to a therapist about this?" She asked with soft concern. "It seems to me like it's not getting better at all. It's been a year, Skwisgaar. You're not doing yourself any favours by clinging to his memory like that and making yourself unhappy."

"Whats am a therapist goings to tells me but whats everyone else beens tellings me?"

"No idea, sweetie. I've never been to one, but... since people go there all the time it might help."

"No amount of talkings is goings to get me over him. I needs him back."

He ran his hand across his face.  

Abigail sighed sympathetically.

"What did you dream?"

"Dat I saws him at de opera last night. We talked, and he came homes with me. We..."

"Hm?"

"You cans guess de rest."

"Are you still in bed?"

"Huh, ja."

"You were probably really tired from your journey... Why don't you make yourself some coffee, see if you feel any better? Take it easy today, okay?"

"Ja, I will. Thanks, Abigails. Have funs with de recordings today."

"Sure thing! I'll see you later."

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he slipped on a bathrobe and wandered to his computer to turn it on. The suit hanging from a clothes hanger in his study further confirmed the discrepancy between what he thought had happened last night and what had actually happened. Apparently one of his more pathetic fantasies had flowed into a desperate dream about his long lost love.

Padding downstairs to retrieve his glasses and his book, he crossed the living room and picked up the blanket in the process. Forgetting about Abigail's advice to make coffee and wake up properly, he headed back to the stairs. He was going to crawl back into bed and submerge himself in the fictional world of Richard and Kahlan to supplant his own misery with theirs and maybe sleep again until it was time to work.

There was something small stuck on the bottom of his right foot, he noticed as he stepped onto the cold tiles of the hallway. He lifted it to brush at the sole. A small, pearlescent button bounced away.

Dropping his book on one of the steps, he jammed his glasses on his nose and ran upstairs. Checking his clothes again, he noticed that not only were none of his white shirts missing buttons, his black shirt was missing entirely. Back in the living room he frantically searched for more evidence in the hopes that he was not going insane, and finally noticed the note scribbled on the back of a receipt on the music rack of his piano.

_Skwis, I've gone to therapy and I've got class till three. I took your shirt (since you ripped mine) and also a pair of your underpants. I'll wash them tonight. Let me know when I can come around to bring them back._

There was a phone number, too, which he saved in his phone with trembling hands.

It was nearly twelve, and his first student would not be around until three. That gave him plenty of time to do something stupid.

Underneath the shower he could not help a relieved smile as the water beat down on the back of his head, plastering his hair to his face, and he was delighted to discover finger-shaped bruises on his hips. Toki _had_ come back to him - it was not just wishful thinking. He was not losing his mind, and the burden of the wait, the uncertainty and the hopelessness was finally lifted from him.

Combing his wet hair back in a tight ponytail, he hesitated between putting on his glasses and running out the door as quickly as possible and taking a little longer to groom properly and put in his contacts. The same reasons motivated both his haste and his insecurity, but his eagerness won out. Toki had seen him at his worst before.

The four nearly identical humanities buildings offered a bit of a challenge when he had to determine where he might find Toki, but he eventually located the plaques reading what faculties were housed there. He found the Theology faculty next to the main library. The lectures seemed to be in session, so he waited in the dark, stuffy little building with books in dimly lit display cases, reading titles of which he no idea what they referred to. Pulling out his phone, he decided to send a text.

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_Sorry to bothers you this morning. Turns out he ams just in class._

Ten minutes later a reply came back.

_From: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_Are you sure you're alright?!_

_To: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_Don't worries about me. I'ms goings to be so much better from now on._

_From: Abigail Remeltintdrinc_

_I hope so :/_

Toki looked surprised to see him when he exited the small classroom, his eyebrows rising with the widening of his eyes, making Skwisgaar fully aware of how pathetic he was being. Nonetheless, he dropped his bag and held his arms out without regard for the other students filing out the building around him, and when Skwisgaar wound his around Toki's neck he lifted him off the ground and squeezed his middle.

"You're really here again," Skwisgaar murmured once he had his feet back on the ground.

"I would have said goodbye, but you were so fast asleep."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I wish you had not cleaned up. I thought I was going insane - that I'd hallucinated everything."

"You found my note, didn't you?"

"Only after I found one of your buttons." He said, running his fingers along Toki's arm and admiring the way the black shirt stretched over his wide upper torso.

Toki kissed him on the nose, "You make me want to drop everything I'm doing."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I've got a choir rehearsal to lead in Fjellhamar."

Skwisgaar could not wait another day before seeing Toki again, and it showed on his face.

"You can come to my place for dinner - the rehearsal isn't long -” Toki offered. “and maybe stay over, if you don't mind sleeping on the worst bed ever."

"Text me the address, I'll bring food."

"Looking forward to it," Toki smiled as he pulled out his phone.

Skwisgaar trailed a hand over Toki's cheekbone and his jaw, rubbing at his fu manchu with his thumb.

"That shirt looks great on you."

 

*******

**Notes**

Ch'io mai vi possa lasciar d'amare, non lo credete, pupille care. Don't believe I could ever stop loving you, dear eyes. Aria from Siroe, rè di Persia by Georg Frideric Händel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f7Kde7Xfu9w

**Translations**

Norwegian

"Bra for deg!" - Good for you!

"Er du kald?" - Are you cold?

"Endelig." - At last/Finally.

"Jeg har aldri sluttet å elske deg." - I have never stopped loving you.

"Jeg har hatet deg, men jeg elsker deg fortsatt." - I have hated you, but I love you, still.

 


	23. Ecco di dolci raggi il sol armato

"How am I even getting reception here?" Toki asked sleepily, raising his head from Skwisgaar's chest.

He was half-inclined to ignore the incoming messages that disturbed the peaceful, sunny afternoon in the meadow.

"Lapland isn't the edge of the world," Skwisgaar mumbled back.

"It is, if you ask me. Imagine living here in winter."

"Pffft. I don't need to imagine it."

Rolling over on the blanket, Toki shielded his phone's screen from the sun to read the new WhatsApp messages in the ‘Dethklok’ group.

_Bringing charlie 2 the next game night any objections_

_Pickles            Today 15:46_

_Are u sure hes ready for that_

_Nathan            Today 15:48_

_About time, I’d like to meet this Charles_

_Abigail             Today 15:51_

_Is everybody but me here gay?! JFC_

_Murderface      Today 15:57_

"Who is it?" Skwisgaar asked, craning his neck.

"Pickle. And just about everyone else. It’s about meeting Charles." Toki said while typing a reply. "He's asking if anyone wants to object."

"That Charles will start objecting soon enough once he’s met all of us. No need to do it in advance."

Skwisgaar slung an arm around his waist and nuzzled his hair.

"Hmmm," Toki purred at the tickle of hot breath against his ear.

_Skwis says he probablies can’ts handles us but I says lets him try_

_Toki                Today 16:08_

Taking his phone from his hands, Skwisgaar called Toki's attention back to their lazy cuddling. Toki laid his head back down on his chest, taking care not to catch his hair on one of his piercings. He was tempted to give it a flick with his tongue, but swimwear made getting them both aroused a terrible idea, especially given their company.

Thobbe's excited splashing and shrill voice at the edge of the pond made Skwisgaar look up for a minute, but he seemed content to let the kid wear out his grandmother for the time being. His heartbeat picked up a little under Toki's ear.

"Did you make up your mind about what I asked you yesterday?"

"About moving back in with you?"

Skwisgaar hummed affirmatively.

It was not the first time Skwisgaar had asked since they had gotten back together, but Toki had been reluctant to give up his self-sufficiency without the absolute certainty they could be stable for a longer period of time. Now that they had been doing well for five months, however, it was an ever more tempting prospect.

"Well, I _have_ seen enough of miserable little villages, and my contract in Fjellhamar is almost at an end..." Toki teased.

"But...?" Skwisgaar said uncertainly.

"Yeah, I want to come and live with you again."

Skwisgaar released his breath with a relieved sound.

"That makes me very happy, kjære."

"Just admit it; my settee-bed is breaking your back."

"No, you riding my ass every night is breaking my back," Skwisgaar muttered under his breath, casting a cautious glance to check no one would overhear.

"Like you're not asking for it all the time."

"Pffft."

"We need to get back on topic," Toki huffed, adjusting his board shorts. “Can I have my phone back? I had an email, too.”

“A whole email.”

“Shut up.”

“Hei, what does it say?” Skwisgaar asked with soft concern when Toki paled reading the email.

Toki passed him the phone.

_From: Ole Stedjeberg_

_Subject: Update on Ole_

_Dear family and friends,_

_Some of you already know that our vacation in the Lofoten Islands ended pretty abruptly yesterday. Ole took a bad fall and had to be transferred to the trauma centre in Oslo. _His condition has stabilised, but h_ e is undergoing a series of surgeries to treat his unstable spine fracture and various other injuries. We will keep you updated. _

_Jens and Frode_

“Fy faen…” Skwisgaar cursed softly. “What does that mean?”

Toki ran a hand across his face at the thought of happy-go-lucky Ole on the operating table.

“An unstable fracture means that there’s a high risk of the spinal cord getting damaged.”

“What if it does?”

“He’ll be paralysed.”

“Do you… want to go back to Oslo to see him?”

“Maybe later this week?” Toki said uncertainly. “Let’s wait and see what happens.”

“Alright. Come here.” Skwisgaar sat up to give him a hug. “Don’t worry, he’ll be alright. It’s got to count for something that he’s young and fit, right?”

“Yeah,” Toki mumbled, taking comfort from Skwisgaar’s optimism.

"Pappa, komma till vattnet!" Thobbe came running, drops of water flying everywhere.

He came to a halt near Skwisgaar's bath towel, pond water running down his lightly tanned skin in rivulets. 

Skwisgaar gave Toki a kiss on top of his head as he got up and took Thobbe's offered hand.

"Lead the way, Thobbe."

The boy dragged his father into the water at a run, splashing Serveta, who was putting on sunscreen on one of the boulders at the edge. Toki laughed at their similar locomotion, lanky limbs flailing, and followed at a more laid back pace. Sitting down next to Serveta he watched them swim, Skwisgaar's loose hair floating around him and Thobbe's curls plastered against his forehead and ears.

"It make me so happy to sees him like dis," Serveta spoke up.

"Me too. I feels like... this ams how it's supposed to be, if you knows whats I means?"

"Ja, I think I does. I wasn't shores at forst when you boys decided to gives it another go, seeings how de forst time wrecked you both, but it look like you just neededs a reboot after all de externalsk troubles was sorted."

A splash of cool water interrupted their conversation as Skwisgaar chased Thobbe through the pond, and Thobbe called for Toki to help him out. With the boy on his shoulders he wrestled Skwisgaar, shrieking and laughing until they were all soaked to the bone.

They returned to Serveta's cabin for dinner, dripping and covered in smudges of mud, with Thobbe still on Toki's shoulders because he was too tired to walk anymore. When Skwisgaar put an arm around Toki's waist, Thobbe leaned in to whisper at his father.

"Pappa, varför ger du Toki så många kramar?"

"Eftersom jag älskar Toki väldigt mycket."

"Alright," Thobbe said, without batting an eye.

It was alright. More than alright.

 

*******

**Notes**

Ecco di dolci raggi il sol armato. Aria from Scherzi Musicali by Claudio Monteverdi. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imfDD1-eAL0

If you can ever get your hands on the rendition by Rolando Villazón, I highly reccomend watching that.

L'aria, la terra, il ciel spiran amore: Arda dunque d'amor, arda ogni core! - The air, the earth, the heavens all breathe love: each heart should burn, therefore, burn with love.

**Translations**

Swedish

"Pappa, varför ger du Toki så många kramar?" - Daddy, why do you give Toki so many hugs?

"Eftersom jag älskar Toki väldigt mycket." - Because I love Toki very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all a big thank you to nursehelena, landofwastingtime and zsomeone, who have watched this project evolve from an uncoordinated beginning to a hopefully well-rounded story and helped me greatly by reading this with me and asking all the right questions about my sometimes dubious and sleep-deprived writing.  
> Secondly, I love all the feedback I've been getting here and on tumblr, thanks everyone for sending me comments and messages - I live for that!  
> If you loved this, be sure to check out my original work From The Heights, about Norwegian metalhead Espen and his awful brothers here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8110039/chapters/18586978


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